


Arrow and The Mage

by latelyllama



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 14:13:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 57,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11419680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/latelyllama/pseuds/latelyllama
Summary: Oliver Queen spent five years on an island. He went through hell, and returned home a changed man. Everyone had questions about what happened, but nobody could quite understand how he didn't come home alone. He brought somebody back with him from the island. And then everything changed.





	1. The Boy from the Island

Oliver Queen is alive. The Starling City resident was found by fishermen in the North China Sea five days ago, five years after he was missing and presumed dead following the accident at sea, which claimed the Queen's Gambit.

That was what the news reporter said. Moira could not believe it. She had thought that the phone call had been a dream. Indeed, part of her hoped that it had been. If Oliver was still dead then she didn't have to revisit that pain again. But he wasn't, he was alive and now, finally, he was home. Thea had wanted to come, had practically begged her, but she had refused. They had no idea what condition he would be in. If it was bad, Moira did not want her to see it. The car journey over was uneventful, no delays, but for Moira Queen it felt unbearably long. Was he alright? What had happened to him? What had he said? What did he need? All of these questions bounced around her head, happily pushing to the back a rather unwelcome thought: what did he know? The car pulled in at the hospital. She shook herself, pulling out of her thoughts to compose herself. Oliver needed her, there would be time later. The door opened and she stepped out onto the street. It was a fairly peaceful night in Starling City. The whole world hadn't stopped just because her son was back from the dead. A nurse recognised her and led her into the hospital, knowing exactly who she had come to see. She walked past several people who quickly stopped their muttering as she passed. Several televisions were playing the news story. She paid them no mind. The nurse led her into a suite, where the Queen family doctor was examining some x-rays. He looked up when she entered and gave her an uncomfortable smile.

 

"I want to see my son."

"Of course, of course."

She made to enter the adjacent room. She could see Oliver in there, standing at the window with his back to her. The doctor held out is arm as if to stop her.

"Before you go in, there are some things you should know."

Moira remained facing the door, looking through the window at her boy.

"Like what?" she said, with an air of impatience.

"20% of his body is covered in scar tissue. Second degree burns on his back and arms. X-Ray's show at least twelve fractures that never properly healed."

The doctor listed off his injuries with a practised detachment. It made Moira sick to think about it.

"Has he said anything about what happened?" she asked, turning to face the doctor.

Where before she had sounded impatient, now her voice was softer, more concerned. But then, learning about your son’s horrific injuries would do that. The doctor also changed his voice, maintaining his professionalism but also showing warmth.

"No. He's barely said anything."

Moira turned once again to face her son. He was still facing the window, no doubt taking in the city he hadn't seen in five years. She reached for the handle.

"Moira, I'd like you to prepare yourself. The Oliver you lost might not be the one they found."

Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle and entered. She feared what he might say, who he might be now, but she longed for him to come back to her. It was definitely a good thing that Thea wasn't here. She stepped into the room. There was another bed but she didn't pay it much attention, she had eyes for only Oliver.

"Oliver."

Emotion had been choking her voice but she had managed to say his name. He turned around and looked at her. It seemed the weight of the world was on his shoulders. She saw him hesitate, whether it was due to emotions like hers or something else she did not know, before finally saying "Mom" with a little smile. There it was. There was her son. They stepped towards one another, closing the distance between them. He remained calm; she struggled to keep from reaching out and pulling him in tight.

"Oh, my beautiful boy."

 

She crumbled, pulling Oliver into a tight embrace which he returned. He was stronger than before, built differently, yet he was still gentle. As she kissed his cheek, she could smell something natural, almost woodsy, in his hair. They finished the hug, Moira stepping back to get a proper look at her son. Oliver remained calm, almost detached like he was holding back. If he was happy to be home, she couldn't tell. But then, he wasn't the same person as before, she remembered. He didn't say anything. He watched her looking at him, a little smile appearing whenever she looked at his face. It was only now that she realised they weren't alone. She turned around, inspecting the room when her eyes settled on the other bed. She had assumed when she'd entered the room that it would be empty besides Oliver. After all, money buys a lot of privacy. Instead, somebody was sitting on it. He had watched her enter and reunite while making no sound at all. Even now that she had spotted him, he said nothing. He could only have been about fifteen or so, dressed in the same hospital garb that Oliver wore. He sat as though he had been meditating. Before she could say anything, and oh how she wanted to say something, Oliver spoke behind her, in the same soft quiet voice as before.

"Mom, this is Robbie Gray. He was on the island with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would appreciate any feedback on this. I'm still getting the hang of things.
> 
> 1x01


	2. First Impressions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x01

The mood in the car was off. Moira sat in the back with Oliver, while this Robbie Gray was up front with the driver. He had said even less than Oliver had. According to the doctors and nurses, he had arrived with Oliver. Apparently, the media had been leaving out the fact that Oliver hadn’t been alone on the island. Or maybe they were just as clueless as she had been. Oliver had insisted that he be in the same room as him. She couldn’t help but fume that nobody had told her, but then she had made it clear by her manner that she wanted to see her son. It was all the doctor could do to make her prepare herself. After Oliver had told her who he was, Robbie had gotten off the bed and introduced himself properly. Here she found that he had spoken with a British accent, not unlike Walter’s. She couldn’t help but be suspicious of him. He said nothing else while Moira was there. When she had left to make arrangements she had asked the doctors about him. According to them, he had also said nothing to them, and while psychologically he seemed to be similar to Oliver as far as they could tell, physically he seemed fine. She could see him in the front of the car. Oliver had insisted that he come with them, that he had no family of his own. Moira, overjoyed with having her son back, would have done anything to accommodate him, but this abrupt introduction had soured her somewhat. Nevertheless she agreed. She had to admit, there did seem to be something vulnerable about the boy and she had tried to teach her children to help where they could. She may not have succeeded in that particular lesson but she couldn’t but feel like he did need a family right now. They had prepared to leave, with her driver bringing over some clothes from home for Oliver. Robbie had somehow acquired clothes. She assumed they were from some sort of donation drive at the hospital but the way he went about doing things, without a sound, put Moira on edge. _Be patient Moira. This boy has been through hell just like Oliver. Give him time._ Yes, she thought, she would have to be patient.

 

They rounded the hedgerows and the Queen mansion was before them. She could see Robbie in the front looking at it. Oliver beside her also looked at it. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but she hoped he was feeling relieved. He was finally home. The arrived in front of the main doors and all exited the vehicle. Oliver took his luggage from the driver, a large wooden case which he had brought back with him from the island. Robbie had no luggage at all. She opened the doors, leading the way into the house.

“Your room is exactly as you left it. I never had the heart to change it.”

She spoke as though he had just come back from a long vacation, not five years on an island. Still, she hoped, maybe it would help bring back a sense of normalcy. Oliver stood in the doorway, surveying the inside of the house, when a deep voice said “Oliver”. Walter approached them.

“It’s damn good to see you.”

Oliver looked at Walter. There was no hint of familiarity, though he did take the offered hand. Walter tried to get him to remember, but Oliver was already distracted by someone else who had arrived, one of the house staff, Raisa. Oliver walked up to her, with a big smile on his face and hugged her. Moira didn’t know what to think. He hadn’t seemed that glad to see her, yet a maid could make him smile. What did he know? That question flashed across her mind once again, but she pushed it aside. He was probably just recovering from the experience. It was going to be hard for him, so maybe someone who he knew who was a little more detached from his family would be good for him.

“Mr Merlyn phoned. He wants to join you for dinner” Raisa informed her.

At last, Moira thought, something a bit more ordinary. She voiced her agreement and pleasure at that, hoping that of all people, Oliver’s childhood friend would be able to get through to him.

“Who’s this?”

Raisa had spotted Robbie standing in the doorway. Like at the hospital, he had watched the whole interaction without making a sound. She had almost forgotten he was there. Robbie stepped forward and extended his hand to Walter.

“Robbie Gray. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Walter accepted the hand and shook it.

“I don’t mean to intrude. I know that this is a family reunion, and I don’t want to get in the way.”

“Nonsense,” Walter said jovially, “Moira explained the situation when she called. You don’t need to worry.”

“I can find somewhere else to live.”

Moira was somewhat taken aback. She hadn’t known what to expect when Robbie finally started talking, and was pleasantly surprised to find him very polite. Maybe she had been a bit presumptuous with the distrust.

“Don’t be silly” she chimed in, a warm smile on her face, “it’s a big house, there’s plenty of room. For as long as you need.”

She caught a glimpse of Oliver and that small smile was back. Robbie looked like he was about to say something when noise at the top of the stairs made her turn. Oliver had also heard it, and moved to the foot of the stairs. His sister Thea was stood at the top, looking down at her big brother.

“I knew it. I knew you were alive.”

She spoke as she all but ran down the stairs and held onto her brother tightly. Oliver said something to her softly that Moira couldn’t hear. She saw Robbie once again watching. He had a similar small smile to Oliver’s as he watched him and Thea reuniting. There was something though that Moira could see, some sadness behind his eyes that he didn’t want to show. Clearly there was more to this boy than she first thought.


	3. Cold and Uncomfortable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x01

It had to be one of the most uncomfortable meals that Thea had ever had. She hadn’t long let go of Oliver when his friend was introduced. Friend. She could not believe that somehow Oliver had brought someone back from the island. His friend, Robbie, seemed nice enough and didn’t want to get in her way. He barely said anything really. Before she could gather what she thought about it, Tommy Merlyn had arrived. Tommy, in his usual way, hit the ground running. He immediately started trying to catch Oliver up on the world he’d missed. Oliver didn’t really say much, merely listening, nodding and laughing occasionally. Before, Oliver would have been giving just as much as he was getting from Tommy. Raisa announced that dinner was ready and Moira and Walter led the way. Oliver and Tommy followed them. Thea followed after, with Robbie bringing up the rear. Moira and Walter sat at one end of the table and Oliver and Tommy sat at the other. Thea took the seat next to her brother. Robbie hovered by the table, clearly unsure where he should be. Thea also wasn’t sure what he was doing there. Nobody had explained to her what Robbie was doing here, only that he had been on the island with Oliver. Oliver motioned to the seat next to her and Robbie sat down in it. Raisa brought the food out and the meal began. Tommy started talking again, rattling off about Super Bowl winners, Moira and Walter were talking amongst themselves. Thea looked next to her and saw Robbie looking at his plate. He seemed almost amazed at the amount of food on it. His hands hovered slightly above the cutlery, as if he wasn’t entirely sure how to use them. She looked over at Oliver, wondering if he was acting the same way. He was absent-mindedly listening to Tommy. She turned back to Robbie, hoping to ask him about it, but Robbie had picked up the knife and fork and was carefully using them to cut his meat. She couldn’t take it anymore, she needed answers.

“What was it like there?”

 

Everyone at the table fell silent. Good job Thea, she thought. All eyes were on Oliver, but his eyes were on Robbie. After a little while, he finally said “cold.” Robbie nodded his agreement. Tommy, who had paid very little attention to Robbie, he hadn’t even acknowledged that he was there when he arrived, looked between Oliver and Robbie before finally speaking.

“So you two, you were, you were on the, uh, the island together?”

Robbie looked to Oliver before answering “yes”.

“How come?” Thea asked.

Walter and Moira were listening now. Robbie took a deep breath, gathering himself.

“My family and I were travelling around the world. We were flying over the island when we had engine failure. We had to abandon the plane. I was the only one who made it.”

He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. Tommy looked uncomfortable hearing that, but it only made Thea more curious. His story was very vague after all. She didn’t want to read too deeply into it, but a part of her felt like he wasn’t being honest.

“How did you survive?” she asked, hoping she wasn’t going too far.

It was, after all, a rather direct question. Robbie once again looked to Oliver.

“We managed.”

Before Thea could press further, Oliver spoke up.

“I would be dead if it wasn’t for Robbie.”

Thea let the subject drop. It was obviously a sore subject for the both of them. She felt bad for pushing it. She looked at Robbie to see if he was offended or upset by her questioning, but he didn’t seem affected by it at all.

“Anyway, tomorrow, you and me, we’re doing the city. You’ve got a lot to catch up on” Tommy chimed in, changing the subject dramatically.

“That sounds like a great idea” Moira replied, her tone warm.

The mood of the table eased up somewhat. Thea returned to her food.

“Good, then I was hoping to swing by the office” Oliver said.

Walter, who had been about to take a drink, held his glass still. Moira regarded it positively. Walter spoke.

“There’s plenty of time for all of that. Queen Consolidated isn’t going anywhere.”

“What about Robbie?” Thea asked. Robbie looked up from his plate, regarding Thea with a curious expression.

“What do you mean?” Moira asked.

“I’m guessing he’s staying here. I wouldn’t know, since nobody’s told me.”

Moira set her knife and fork down.

“Yes Thea, Robbie will be staying here.”

Her stomach twisted. She didn’t know if she wanted him here, she had no idea who he was. She looked at Robbie, who merely looked down at his plate, not saying anything. She eased up a bit seeing his expression. He was purposefully avoiding her gaze.

“Well if he is, he’s going to need some stuff. I mean, unless he can magically conjure up some clothes for himself.”

“Maybe he could tag along with Oliver tomorrow” Walter suggested.

Tommy looked like that would be a very bad idea. Oliver himself didn’t say anything, merely looked between Tommy and Robbie.

“No I wouldn’t want to do that” Robbie replied, sounding apologetic, “I’d only get in the way.”

Tommy seemed relieved to hear that. Only because it means he doesn’t have to be the one saying it, Thea thought. She did feel slightly bad now about saying anything. Robbie seemed to be painfully aware that he was entering someone else’s home. Moira thought for a moment.

“Well, I think we have some of Oliver’s old clothes that might fit. It’ll have to do until we can get something better.”

“Thank you Mrs Queen” Robbie said.

“Oh please, call me Moira” Moira replied, with a big smile.

She obviously wasn't going to change her mind. Thea quietly returned to her dinner once again. Maybe she could get used to him. A small scuffle caught her attention. Raisa had been carrying over a bowl of fruit when she’d stumbled. Oliver had caught her and the bowl.

“I’m so sorry Mr Oliver.”

Oliver responded in Russian. Wait, when had he learnt Russian? Tommy looked amazed by it, whereas Moira looked slightly confused.

“Dude you speak Russian!” Tommy said in disbelief.

“I didn’t realise you took Russian at college Oliver” Walter said.

“I didn’t realise you wanted to sleep with my mother Walter.”

 

There it was. Thea shrank down in her seat, squirming slightly. She knew that it was going to come up eventually. Why Moira hadn’t just told Oliver when he first got home, Thea had no idea. She also didn’t know how Oliver knew. She hadn’t told him, hadn’t even hinted at it. Tommy had only talked about useless trivia since he got here, and Robbie had only just met everyone. The mood at the table, which had been slowly becoming more bearable chilled immediately. Walter and Moira exchanged a look. Oliver stared Moira down, while she looked around the table. Her gaze fell on Thea, who immediately piped up.

“I didn’t say anything.”

She didn’t know if Moira believed her.

“She didn’t have to” Oliver said, keeping his eyes on Moira.

Thea didn’t think they’d been that obvious, had they? Walter had poured her a glass of wine, and they’d talked, but that didn’t mean anything. Was it because they were sat together? Their father would have guests sit with him all the time when they were growing up. Thea couldn’t spend more time on this thought, as Moira started speaking.

“Oliver, Walter and I are married” she said, reaching out and taking Walters hand.

Thea tuned out the rest of what she was saying. She didn’t mind Walter, she actually quite liked him, but she still found it a lot easier to reconcile him being with her mother if she didn’t have to think about what that meant for her father.

“It’s fine.”

Her brother’s words brought her back. He didn’t say anything else. Instead, he stood up and asked to be excused. Who knew five years on an island could give you manners, she thought. Moira allowed it and Oliver left, taking an apple from the bowl with him.

“Hey, don’t forget about tomorrow buddy” Tommy said as Oliver walked past him.

With a final wink to Thea, Oliver left the room. Tommy looked uncomfortable, Moira looked concerned and Thea just felt overwhelmed. She had played out Oliver’s return in her head a thousand times. It had never gone like this.

“What happened on that island?” Walter asked Robbie.

He clearly wanted answers. Thea did too. He kept his gaze down at the table, not looking at anyone.

“A lot.”

It was one of the most uncomfortable meals Thea had ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I feel about this chapter. Would greatly appreciate any feedback. Thank you


	4. Down to Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x01

Dinner was over. Tommy had left, Thea was back in her room and Moira and Walter were talking in a living room. A living room. The idea of multiple living rooms was so strange to Robbie it made him chuckle. This house was huge. Raisa had shown him to his room. It was lightly furnished, a large bed, a wardrobe and dresser. There weren’t any personal effects so Robbie guessed it was probably a guest room. He would have to have a good look around later, right now was business. He left his room and roamed the hallways. From the walls hung various pieces of artwork, the floors had high quality carpets and rugs. What his family would have given to live in a place like this. Just one painting would have bankrupted his parents. But there was no use thinking about that now, he needed to find Oliver. You’d think that it being a big house and the fact that he’d never been here before would be a problem, but not for Robbie, especially not when it was Oliver he needed to find. Sure enough, he could feel a brooding presence. That could only be Oliver. He made his way with purpose. He knocked softly, waited, and then entered. Oliver’s room was bigger than his, and he could tell it was his childhood room. Oliver was sat at a desk looking at something on a computer screen.

“Close the door.”

Robbie did so, and sat down on the end of the bed. Oliver was researching something, and he had a small book in his hand. Robbie knew that book. It had had some kind of hold over Oliver’s attention for as long as he’d known him. To anyone else it wouldn’t be so out of the ordinary. It was just a list of names. To Oliver though, it was a mission, one given to him by his father. If Oliver was researching, then he must be getting started.

“Found someone you like” he asked inquisitively.

Oliver looked away from the screen, checked that the door was closed before speaking softly. If Robbie hadn’t been so used to Oliver doing this, he wouldn’t have understood anything. As it happened, he heard everything that was being said.

“I might have something, but I need somewhere more permanent.”

“I thought so. 20 miles from the centre of town isn’t exactly convenient” Robbie responded, his voice equally soft, “what do you need me to do?”

“I need you to take a look at something” Oliver said, indicating to the computer screen.

From where he was sitting, Robbie could see an image of what looked like a factory.

“It’s an old Queen Consolidated building in the Glades, abandoned by the sounds of it.”

“And you want me to what, scope it out?”

“The Glades is at heart of the list. Everyone on it has in some way exploited the poor and the downtrodden who call that part of the city home. This factory is right in the centre.”

“The perfect place to move out from.”

“Exactly.”

Oliver turned back to the computer. Robbie sat in silence for a moment. In the distance, thunder was crashing. Rain started pattering against the glass of the window. Robbie sighed. Oliver was distracting himself, he could tell.

“Dinner went well.”

Oliver said nothing in response, so Robbie continued.

“Your family seems nice. I didn’t know how Moira would react to me being here, but she seems to have come around. At least a little bit.”

Oliver still said nothing but he had stopped what he was doing. Robbie knew that he was listening.

“They want to try and be there for you. At least, that’s what it looks like.”

Oliver sighed and turned the chair around. He fixed Robbie with a pointed stare.

“You’re not going to tell them, are you?”

“I can’t. Nobody can know my secret, it’ll only hurt them.”

“Then give them something Oliver” Robbie burst out.

Oliver raised an eyebrow, inviting him to explain. Robbie gathered his thoughts for a moment before continuing.

“Your family lost you, for five years. Now that you’re back, they don’t know what to think. They don’t know how to treat you. Are you broken, are you whole? They don’t know. So if you’re going to do this Oliver, if you’re going to keep them at arm’s length about this, at least give them something. Be the person you were before the island, or be somebody who everyone can understand has been through a lot and is different, it doesn’t matter. Just give them something.”

Oliver smirked.

“Are you going to be lecturing me all the time, or was that for a special occasion?”

“Well as special occasions go, I think coming back from the dead counts” Robbie teased.

Oliver chuckled, which made Robbie smile. Oliver turned back around to the computer. He glanced back to the end of the bed, but Robbie had already gone.


	5. A Place to Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x01

It was early in the morning. 6:12 to be precise, and Robbie liked to be precise, especially about time. Nobody in the house was awake, not that he’d expected them to be. At this hour, he didn’t need to worry about anybody walking in unexpectedly. He was quite free to move about. Walls and doors were nothing to him. He moved through the house. Time passed at a snail’s pace while he examined the paintings on the walls, counted the patterns on the carpets. He explored all the empty rooms before making his way outside. The Queen mansion was large but the grounds were even larger. There were crafted hedgerows and ornate fountains, flowerbeds that obviously had hours of work put into them. It truly was a sight to behold. He could see a light on in an upstairs room. Someone in the Queen family must be an early riser. He made his way back inside, back to his room. He hadn’t truly left; he was exactly where he had left himself. It felt to him as though he’d spent hours exploring only minutes had passed. He stayed where he was, pondering the task that Oliver had set him. He could do it, easily, when to do it was the question. He checked the clock. 6:15. He had time.

 

The warehouse floor was dusty and littered. Obviously no-one had been there in a while. Robbie settled down on the floor and surveyed the area. Well there was certainly a lot of space, but it was all too exposed. Oliver must have had something in mind when he thought of this place. Maybe it had a basement. He moved to the centre of the floor and allowed himself to drift downwards. It was always a risk being so far away, but he was confident that no-one could hurt him. He continued drifting until eventually he entered empty space. This warehouse did indeed have a basement. From his high vantage point, he could see everything clearly, despite the lack of light. It was a mess of pipework and metal poles, with thick concrete supports holding up the floor above. He looked around, trying to find the entrances and exits. He settled in the centre, looking all around. He could just about see it in his mind’s eye: a base of operations. He smiled. This was it. He pulled himself back, gasping as though he’d just stepped into a cold shower. He had gone much further out than he had originally planned. He checked the clock, 7:15. He had been gone for about an hour in real time; though to him it had felt like a day. He’d scoped the entire area out, looking for lines of attack and escape. He’d poured over every nook and cranny, just as Oliver wanted him to. There was a knock on the door. It opened and in came Raisa.

“Hello Mr Robbie. I have a box of clothes for you.”

“Thank you Raisa.”

He opened the box. There was a small collection of t-shirts, pants, etc. “They belonged to Oliver when he was about your age.” He tried to imagine Oliver as teenager. Probably quite skinny, tall, not quite so rugged. Oliver didn’t talk much about his life before the island. From what he had said, and from the way his best friend acted, Robbie gathered that he was spoiled rich kid, the sort of person everyone he’d known growing up would have hated. Still, Robbie thought, he wasn’t like that now. Though he unfortunately knew some of what it had taken to change him.

 

Robbie was dressed in his new clothes, wandering about the mansion, making it seem like everything was new to him. He needed to see Oliver before he left with Tommy. Other than that, he had no idea what was in store for him today. When Oliver had asked him to come back to Starling City with him, he’d not given it much thought. Of course he would. But now he was faced with it, it was quite daunting. He could hear people in the entrance hall in front of him. Investigating, he found Moira and Walter. Walter was in his suit and was clearly on his way to work.

“Ah Robbie. We didn’t know when to expect you up. Are you exploring the house?” Walter asked him.

“Yes. It seems so much bigger on the inside” he replied.

“It does seem that way, doesn’t it. I’m afraid I can’t chat, I’m off to work” Walter said, the last bit to both Robbie and Moira.

“Have a good day” Moira said warmly.

She seemed happier today, like things were back to normal, or so Robbie thought. Walter left, leaving him alone with Moira. He hadn’t been alone with her before. Would she reveal that she actually thought of him, now that they were in private? He had pretty much been thrust upon her. When she turned, he almost expected her smile to drop when she looked at him. Instead she kept smiling, not at all perturbed by his presence.

“What grade are you in school?” she asked him, as though he was one of her children.

“I, um, excuse me.”

He had not expected that question.

“What year are you in school?”

It was such a simple question; Robbie had no idea why he couldn’t find an answer. When he didn’t speak, Moira continued.

“Don’t worry; I’m not going to force you. You’ve been through an ordeal to say the least. We’ll ease you back into it. I’ve arranged a meeting with a school to assess you.”

“Assess me?”

“Oh, I apologise,” Moira said, compassionately, “I don’t mean to be insensitive but I don’t know how much you’ve missed, or what schooling you’ve already had. So I arranged a meeting with the school to make a decision about it. Is that alright?”

She looked concerned when he didn’t answer. He quickly composed himself.

“Yes, of course, absolutely.”

She seemed content with that answer and left him to go about her business. Robbie stood rooted for a moment. Snap out of it, he thought, berating himself in his head. It’s just school. He went up the stairs and made his way to Oliver’s room. He knew he’d be awake, so as he did before, he knocked softly, waited and entered. Oliver had his back to him and was just putting on a shirt as he entered. Robbie got a brief glimpse of the burn on the small of his back before it was covered up. Oliver turned to face him. They said nothing before Oliver bent over to get something from under his bed. It was his case. He rummaged around inside it while Robbie perched himself on the end of the bed. On the table was a small platter of food which by the looks of it, Oliver had eaten enough of. Grabbing an apple from it, Robbie leaned over to see what Oliver was looking for. It was a small arrowhead with Chinese writing engraved in it. It was a hozen, a Japanese symbol of reconnecting. What Oliver planned to do with it, he had no idea.

“I looked at the warehouse.” Oliver paused briefly as he repacked his case, indicating he was listening.

“I think it would do very well as a base of operations. You’d have to bust through the floor to get stuff down there, but other than that, it should be everything you need it to be.”

Oliver pushed the case back under his bed.

“Do you have a target in mind?”

“Not yet, but we have a place to start.”

Robbie looked down at the part eaten apple in his hand. Oliver turned an inquisitive eye towards him.

“What’s bothering you?”

“Moira asked me about school.”

Oliver let out an incredulous gasp. He hadn’t expected that answer any more than Robbie had expected the question.

“I guess she likes you” was his response.

“I guess she does.”

“Well you do need to give her something. She doesn’t know you, yet you’re in her care. If she doesn’t help you live a normal life, or as normal a life as she can know about, then she’ll never be able to understand you. So give her something,” Oliver said, with an all too familiar tone.

“I seem to remember saying something like that to you last night.”

“Yes you did” Oliver teased.

Robbie chuckled.

“Normal isn’t going to be easy, is it, for either of us?”

“No it isn’t” Oliver replied,” speaking of which; I need to see Thea before Tommy gets here."

Oliver left the room; leaving Robbie still sat on the end of his bed, wondering what on Earth normal is supposed to look like.


	6. Don The Hood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x01

He waited. Oliver had come back with police escorts. Apparently, he and Tommy had been attacked while they were in the city. They were giving a statement to a detective downstairs. The detective, he’d been introduced as Lance, seemed a little off being here. His manner was abrasive, and he barely concealed what Robbie could only describe as hatred. Robbie wasn’t allowed to hear the testimony, so he had gone up to Oliver’s room. If you hadn’t known Oliver was home, you would be hard pressed to say that someone lived here. Everything was neat and tidy, anything Oliver actually owned was in his case and that was under the bed out of sight. Everything else seemed frozen in time. Moira had said she hadn’t changed the room since Oliver disappeared. The room certainly reflected that sentiment. Tommy had said something about them going to see someone called Laurel. The way Moira and Thea looked at Oliver told Robbie that they thought it was a bad idea. There was a photo on Oliver’s desk. It was of him, five years younger. Robbie couldn’t help but laugh. This Oliver looked nothing like the Oliver he knew. There was someone else in the photo, a young woman with long brunette hair and a loving smile. This must be Laurel. Judging by their positions in the photo, Robbie guessed she had probably been his girlfriend at the time. Wanting to know what was going on, he focussed on the room downstairs. He shifted, floating down into the living room, unseen by anyone else. Oliver and Tommy were sat on one sofa, Moira and Walter on another facing the two. Detective Lance was sat on a chair between them with a small table between them all. His mannerisms certainly hadn’t changed since he’d arrived.

“After all, a parent would do anything to keep their child safe.”

Lance directed this at Oliver, an unspoken accusation being made. Moira immediately objected to his tone and Robbie returned upstairs. Who was Lance talking about? Unless he was referring to before Oliver disappeared. He racked his brain, trying to think, when a name surfaced. Sara. Oliver rarely talked about what happened before they met, but one name that did come up was a girl named Sara. All Oliver had said was that he’d betrayed her sister by sleeping with Sara, and that she’d ended up dying because of him. Was she Lance’s daughter? Did he blame him for her death? Quite possibly, Robbie thought, but then who was the sister he’d betrayed. He had barely formed that question when his eyes came to rest on the photo again. Laurel. He’d slept with her sister, and she’d died. Moira and Thea’s reactions now made sense if Oliver had been to see her. Wow Oliver, Robbie thought, you certainly were quite the heart breaking playboy, weren’t you.

 

The door opened a short while later and Oliver strode purposefully into the room. He barely registered that Robbie was there. He immediately sat at his desk, switched on the computer and got to work. Robbie waited before speaking.

“So, you got mugged? Is that what this city is like?”

“Yes, except they weren’t muggers. They were professionals. They wanted to know about my father.”

Oliver didn’t turn to face him; instead he remained engrossed in the computer. He pulled a newspaper clipping out of his pocket and laid it next to him on the table.

“And then what?”

Oliver paused briefly.

“A guy in a hood rescued us.”

“Except there was no hood, was there?” Robbie said, almost playfully.

Oliver stopped and turned to face him. He stared, almost glared at him before checking the door was firmly shut.

“No, but there will be” he said quietly.

He returned to his computer. Robbie got up and joined him at the desk. Now he could see what Oliver was doing. The clipping, the information on the screen, they were all about one particular person.

“Adam Hunt. So you picked a target.”

Oliver nodded. Robbie took that as a dismissal and made to leave.

“Tomorrow, at the warehouse” Oliver said, not looking up from the computer.

Robbie nodded and left the room. Oliver was focussed; all he could think about right now was his mission.

 

 

The next day arrived. Oliver walked through the Glades with his bag, walking with purpose. The weather was crisp and grey. He passed very few people as he walked. Some homeless people were gathered around a barrel fire. They didn’t react to him as he walked past. It was as he expected. In this part of the city, you didn’t get by by being visible. You kept your head down and your nose clean, as best you can. Nobody would notice a recently back from the dead billionaire walking the streets. Nevertheless, Oliver too kept his head down. He knew where he needed to be. Before him lay a Queen Consolidated warehouse. It was supposed to be abandoned, and it certainly looked the part. He trusted Robbie but he would have to do his own inspection, just to be sure. The gate was locked and the fence was high. No matter. He tossed his bags over and climbed the fence easily. Again, nobody reacted. They were so used to seeing crime here so what’s one more person climbing over a locked fence. His heart sank at that thought. He pulled open the door, revealing the dishevelled interior. Old bits of paper shuffled on the floor, blown about by the breeze. There was a metal railing straight ahead of him, and perched on top was Robbie. He knew Robbie would be here before him.

“That bodyguard is going to have quite the time with you” Robbie said, hopping down from the railing.

Oliver said nothing, but did crack a smile. He did feel slightly bad. His mother had the best of intentions when she’d hired Mr Diggle to protect him. He also knew that Diggle was just trying to do his job. Still, he needed to get to the city, and he needed to get here without being seen. If that meant slipping away from his protector then so be it.

“Did you get away ok?” Oliver asked him.

Robbie narrowed his eyes as though someone was shining a light in them.

“There talking to me about private tuition” he replied.

To anybody else, this would have made no sense, but Oliver had seen him do this before. Robbie was quite the individual. He could slip away from, or into, places where other people could not, and nobody would be any the wiser. His mother and the school official both thought they were talking to Robbie, but the real Robbie was right here with Oliver. He called it a decoy. It certainly had its uses, uses which Oliver was sure he would take advantage of.

“Let’s get started” Oliver said.

Robbie nodded, pointed to a patch on the floor. Oliver took out a pickaxe and began breaking through. Robbie was tying together the other supplies that he had brought so that when the hole was large enough, everything was lowered down. Robbie dropped into the hole, and despite the drop, he landed softly. He untied the ropes so that Oliver could lower himself down. Now that he was here, it was as Robbie had said: everything he needed it to be. Robbie looked to him for approval. He nodded and they continued working. They set up the equipment: computers and monitors, generators, workbenches, tools for making arrows. At the end of it all, Oliver turned on the generator. The lights and monitors came to life, the lamps reflecting off of the containers, casting everything in an eerie green glow.

“Congratulations Oliver Queen. You now have a lair.”

Oliver didn’t respond. He had his base of operations. Now the real work could begin.

 

He had just finished testing his new arrows when he heard movement behind him. Whipping around, he saw that it was only Robbie. Robbie looked at the arrows in the wall. He looked impressed.

“You know, if this crusade of yours doesn’t work out, you definitely have a bright future as an archery instructor ahead of you.”

Oliver said nothing to that, and checked his monitors. They were currently tracking Adam Hunt, while also finding any information that would prove useful.

“You never said, why him?”

Oliver looked up at Robbie, who gestured to the screens and the picture of Adam Hunt displayed on them.

“He’s committed fraud and theft and a whole host of other crimes, but he’s been able to bully, bribe or kill anyone who’s gotten in his way.”

“So have plenty of other people on the list, I’m sure. I’m also sure that that has nothing to do with it.”

Robbie once again indicated to the screens. A news report was playing showing Hunt and Laurel and talking about the case she was bringing against him. Oliver said nothing but it was true. Laurel was going after Hunt, so Oliver was going after Hunt. He went to one of the metal tables. His wooden case was on it. He unlocked it and flipped open the lid. Robbie looked like he was going to make another comment, but Oliver cut him off.

“I needed to move up my schedule. I wasn’t counting on being kidnapped for information.”

Robbie put up his hands.

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

He sat himself down in a chair and looked at what information Oliver had on Hunt.

“This guy sure likes his security. You’d think he was important like the Queen or something. Not the you Queen I mean, the Queen Queen. It won’t be easy getting to him.”

Oliver reached into his case.

“I’m not worried. He hasn’t met someone like me yet.”

From the case he took a green hood. They exchanged a final glance. Robbie could see him closing up. The person he’d just been talking to was pulling back, replaced with something far colder. Robbie would have been scared stiff of that look, if only it had been the first time he’d seen it. Without another word, Oliver walked away into the shadows, carrying his bow and the hood. Robbie hoped Adam Hunt was easily scared. Because after tonight, he would have something to fear.


	7. Hunting His Prey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x01

Mr Hunt was pissed off. Anybody could see that so why was this cop acting like such an idiot. These were all thoughts that crossed Constantine Drakon’s mind as he listened to Hunt making his statement. He’d been attacked by someone wearing a hood. He’d shot a whole bunch of Hunt’s security detail with arrows. Drakon hadn’t seen anything like it. What sort of madman used a bow and arrow? Surely a gun would be much more effective. He kept these questions to himself. Hunt was paying him good money to coordinate security for tonight. The hooded guy had apparently threatened to make a return appearance should Hunt not do as he’d asked. Hunt was an asshole with money, so of course he hadn’t done it, nor did he plan to do it.

“Right well uh. Thanks for your time” Detective Lance said, before he and his partner left the office.

Drakon already had several armed men in his employ. He’d be able to get more before 10pm tonight, when the hooded guy was supposed to show up again.

“Drakon” Hunt said, demanding an immediate response, which Drakon obliged, moving over to stand opposite Hunt while he sat at his desk.

He waited. He knew that Hunt didn’t call him over for him to speak.

“Whatever guns you need, however many men, I don’t care. I will not be threatened by some freak in a hood!” Hunt ranted.

Drakon nodded his agreement. He left Hunt in his office, doing whatever it is that businessmen did. Hunt would make good on that promise, so Drakon would make sure he took advantage of it. He got to his computer and began sending messages, using connections, calling in favours, everything that he had to use. Responses came in thick and fast. He waited a few hours before making his selection.

“Excuse me, Mr Drakon sir?” Hunt had assigned him a personal assistant, a petite young woman, probably only just finished college, who now stood at the doorway to his office.

“What is it?” he replied.

“There’s somebody here to see you, something about security” she said, obviously nervous to talk to him.

He got up and followed her out into the hallway. A man dressed in a sharp black suit was waiting for him. Drakon looked him over, he certainly had the build for this job, but did he have the skills.

“You want to join our team?”

“Yes sir. I heard the call on the net, something about Mr Hunt hiring additional security. Thought I’d try my hand.”

He sounded cocky but not impolite. Maybe he would be useful.

“This will be a dangerous job. I will need to test you” Drakon said vaguely, the man didn’t seem to understand.

“Gonzalez!”

A short, well-built man strode down the corridor and swung a punch at the man. He reacted, but not fast enough and the punch caught his shoulder hard. He stumbled back but quickly regained his balance. Gonzalez once again aimed a punch at him, but this time he was ready. The man blocked it and aimed a counterpunch at Gonzalez’ stomach. Gonzalez turned to take the punch in his arm instead, before twisting into it, grabbing onto the man’s arm and pulling him into a choke hold. The man struggled briefly before driving his elbow into Gonzalez’ gut. It was a very hard impact apparently, as Gonzalez loosened his grip and the man struggled out of it, ready to keep fighting. Drakon held up his hand, he’d seen enough. Gonzalez stopped and left the pair of them. The man turned around to face Drakon, still on edge.

“I take it that was the test” he said, breathing deeply and quickly.

“It was indeed.”

“Did I pass?”

“Most definitely.”

 

“Infiltrate Hunt’s security. Be me second pair of eyes on the inside.”

Those were Oliver’s instructions. They’d been at the warehouse, watching the computers, waiting for Hunt to transfer the money he owed. If he didn’t do it by 10pm, then Oliver would come and take it. Robbie had known that Hunt wouldn’t do it. He knew that Oliver knew as well, but there still seemed like a part of him that hoped he didn’t have to put the hood on tonight. When he had left, Oliver had turned to him.

“I want you in the room with Hunt, not out in the corridor” he’d said.

Now he stood in a large office with several other guards. Mr Drakon, the head of security had just entered the room after briefing people in the corridor. The doors were closed and electronically locked. He held tightly to the gun in his hand. The other guards didn’t suspect a thing. They had asked for additional manpower so why would they think differently. How could they have known? After all, this body hadn’t existed before today, and he’d slipped into it as easily as putting on a coat. It did feel weird. He felt taller, more muscular, his voice sounded more gravelly, but he played it off. He’d even taken a punch for them. He could hear, just about, the sounds of bass. Oliver’s welcome home party was just across the street, the perfect cover to get Oliver here.

“It’s past ten. He’s never getting in here,” Drakon said to Hunt, who looked out of the window nervously.

Robbie couldn’t be sure if Hunt believed him, but nothing was said. Over the low sound of the music from across the street, Robbie heard a small thud. The others didn’t, they didn’t know what to expect. Robbie smiled to himself. Oliver was making his move. Robbie surveyed the room. There was him, Hunt, Drakon and two other guards in the room. He knew that there were at least six others in the corridor to the lift. If it was anyone else attempting to storm this place, they would fail, but Robbie knew better. They didn’t stand a chance. All of the lights went out. Drakon focussed on the door. He would be an obstacle, he thought. Hunt only seemed more agitated. The other guards in the room took their positions, and Robbie, playing the part, took his. There was a bell as the elevator arrived, then the sounds of guns. He was here. Robbie quickly took note of the people with him. Oliver wouldn’t need help, but if he did, he would need to be prepared. There was one beside the door, another by a sofa, both with guns aimed at the door. Hunt had retreated behind his desk. Drakon was with him. Robbie was behind a table, obviously where Hunt held his meetings, legitimate or otherwise. There was chaos in the hallway. Robbie heard the sound of wood on skin, grunts as people were hit, and bullets hitting walls as they missed their target. Then silence. Robbie knew this tactic well, and it had the desired effect. The other guards seemed put-off by the sudden quiet. Somebody crashed through the frosted glass door and the guard by the sofa emptied his clip into them. The now dead body of one of the hallway guards slumped to the floor. An arrow shot through the hole in the door, striking the guard square in the chest. This was Robbie’s sign. He ducked behind the table, his disguise melting off of him as he did so. Looking between the chair legs, he could see Oliver engaging the other guard. He was merely to watch and wait, to help if he needed to but otherwise stay out of sight. Oliver shot an arrow towards Hunt, seemingly missing, before nocking another and aiming directly at the businessman.

 

“You missed” Hunt said, as if this was some sort of performance review and he was going to be firing somebody.

“Really” Oliver said back, not at all fazed.

Suddenly, Drakon was up and knocked the bow out of Oliver’s hand. They fought, Drakon landing a few blows while Oliver countered or avoided the rest. He was good, but Oliver was better. Oliver threw him over his shoulder and they both crashed through a glass table. Hunt slipped out of the room and into the corridor. Robbie followed, keeping out of the way of Oliver and Drakon. Hunt was on the phone, calling in the police who’d been waiting outside. He didn’t need to stop him, Hunt wasn’t a threat. He stood in the smashed door frame, watching things unfold. The brawl had turned into a knife fight. It mattered little, Drakon swung and stabbed but his blows either struck empty air or were knocked aside, all while Oliver landed hits. Oliver caught his arm and twisted it around, punching Drakon hard in the face, sending him sprawling to the floor. Unfortunately, he was within reach of a gun. Oliver turned tail and ran for Hunt’s desk. Drakon advanced slightly, but before he could fire, Robbie took his chance. Drakon hadn’t noticed him, why would he when Oliver was the immediate threat. He darted forward, jumping past Drakon and hitting the gun out of his hand. It was swift and precise. Drakon had no time to react before Oliver leapt over the desk, sending a flechette back at him. It struck his chest. He stumbled backwards before collapsing. Robbie looked back over at him. He was already dead. Oliver struggled to his feet. Even for someone like him, landing hard on his side would take something out of you. Robbie crouched low beside him, keeping an eye on the door.

“The police will be here any minute now” he told Oliver.

Sure enough, they could hear the radios and voices. Torch beams shone through the smashed door.

“Go” Robbie whispered.

 

“All units converge” Quentin Lance spoke into the radio, “all units converge.”

They marched up the stairs as quickly as they could. Damn millionaires with their high up offices. How on Earth had Hunt expected them to respond with any sort of speed? Nevertheless, they made good time with Lance leading the charge of the SWAT team alongside his partner, Pike. They made it to the right floor, having passed a very irate Adam Hunt on the way up. Two SWAT officers took point.

“Go right, go right” Lance instructed.

He and Pike followed the officers. It was a complete mess. Bodies lay at their feet, arrows sticking out of them. Up ahead was a thoroughly shattered glass door with a bullet ridden body on the other side. They approached the door with caution. Lance thought back to when Hunt had originally asked, nay demanded, police protection, saying a hooded man with a bow and arrow had threatened him. Lance had scoffed at it at the time and simply did his job. Seeing the carnage here certainly changed his tune. And he knew the hood guy could still be here. The leading SWAT officer yelled into the room.

“Lay down your weapons or we will open fire!”

It was strong and authoritative. Lance had seen men, many of them armed and dangerous thugs, swiftly obey when the SWAT came calling. Whoever this was had better do the same.

“I repeat, lay down your weapon!”

They were at the door, scanning the room with their torches. From somewhere in the room, Lance didn’t know where, two arrows flew at the officers, striking the torches. They exploded in a shower of sparks and one officer fell back, Lance taking his place. This bastard was crazy if he’s taking on police, Lance thought. There was movement in the room, the hood. He was running across the office. Well he had been warned. Lance opened fire. The hood didn’t try and fight, instead he threw himself threw himself through a window. Somewhat shocked, Lance ran to the broken window and saw the hood sailing down a rope like a zip-line.

“Tell me you saw that” Pike said, disbelievingly. Lance couldn’t quite fathom it. All he knew was that this nut job had made it to the opposite building where Queen was holding his party.

“Room secure sir, no other hostiles” a SWAT officer reported.

“Send officers into that building” he ordered, indicating where the hood had escaped to,” we are not letting this guy get away.”

He looked at the building, at the lights and music that you could just about hear. Lance snorted angrily. Oliver Queen.


	8. Taking Names

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x01 and 1x02

The metal poles slammed together. Robbie and Oliver swung at each other in a well-practised rhythm, each countering the others blows while launching their own. They paced around each other. Every now and again, one would change the speed of a strike, move in a different direction, anything to try and catch the other off guard. Robbie swung hard at Oliver. He leaned away from the strike, attacking as he regained his position. Robbie ducked beneath his move, bringing his poles up to catch Oliver from below. He was met with both of Oliver’s. They were locked in place. Sweat beaded on Oliver’s forehead, and Robbie could feel that he was the same. Before either of them could break the lock, the computers beeped at them. Oliver used this distraction, removing his poles and knocking Robbie’s legs out from under him. Robbie twisted so that he landed on hands and feet and sprung back up ready to continue, but Oliver was sitting at the computer.

“Cheater” Robbie said to the back of his, before joining him.

Oliver was focussed. A bar showing money transfer from a bank account was on one screen while on another were more bars showing more transfers to other accounts. The money was from Adam Hunt, the 40 million dollars Oliver had promised to take, and it was being sent to the people from whom it had been stolen, also as promised.

“Adam Hunt is going to be so angry” Robbie said, smiling.

“Most likely” Oliver replied, still focussed.

They both watched the transfers happening for a while before Oliver clicked a pen. The book was lying open beside him. Robbie could see Adam Hunt’s name clearly. Oliver, carefully, deliberately, crossed him off.

“One down” Robbie said.

“Many, many more to go” Oliver replied.

 

“Who’s that?”

“Where’d he come from?”

The guards were panicking. They ran at Oliver unarmed, as if they thought they could take him. Robbie saw Oliver advance. It was four against one, but Oliver beat them one after the other. They didn’t stand a chance. Robbie stood with one other guard. They both were armed with guns and were the last line of defence for Marcus Redmond who was behind them. This hadn’t been like Adam Hunt who had been hiring additional security. Redmond had his team already set, so Robbie had found one of them and arranged for him to suddenly fall ‘ill’. Robbie then took his place. His colleagues hadn’t noticed the difference.

“Get him!” Redmond ordered, when the four guards Oliver had been fighting were on the ground unable to fight.

The only other guard tried aiming his gun, but Oliver had drawn an arrow faster. The arrow whizzed through the air and knocked the gun out of his hand. He had no time to retrieve it before Oliver landed a solid punch to his face, knocking him out cold. Oliver sent another arrow at another guard who had tried charging at him from behind. Redmond pushed Robbie forward, still thinking he was a guard. He and Oliver exchanged looks, before Robbie stepped aside.

“He’s all yours.”

Redmond’s face fell as Oliver advanced, realising he was entirely undefended.

“Woah, woah, woah, please wait, wait!” he tried to beg before Oliver through him onto a ventilation machine.

He kicked open a grate revealing spinning fan blades. Grabbing Redmond’s head, he dragged it over to the fan.

“Marcus Redmond, you’ve failed this city!”

Robbie slipped out of his disguise and watched as the businessman begged. Oliver made his demands and they both left. Only time would tell if he would comply or if Oliver needed to have another ‘conversation’ with him, Robbie hoped it would be the former.

 

They were gathered around the TV. Moira was sat in an armchair with Walter stood behind her, holding her coat. Robbie was leant against the other armchair. Thea stood next to her mother, arms crossed. They were all watching the news. It was a story about a businessman called Marcus Redmond. Apparently he’d been withdrawing money from his client’s pensions. He was saying he’d always been intended to return the money, but Thea could see through his PR prepared speech. When the reporter said that other sources claimed Redmond had been threatened by the vigilante to do it, she could believe that more easily, even if it was completely absurd. Oliver entered the room as the story was being reported. He’d been getting ready for his court appearance to be legally brought back to life. He gestured to the TV.

“This guy gets more airtime than the Kardashians.”

Thea didn’t know whether she should be impressed or not.

“Five years on an island and you still know who they are.”

“I’ve been catching up” Oliver said, “it’s nice to see how much our culture has improved while I was away.”

“The vigilante or reality TV?” Robbie asked, smirking.

“Well the city used to be different. People used to feel safe” Moira said.

“What’s the matter Mom? Afraid we’re going to be next” Thea asked, teasing her mother.

Walter asked Oliver about his hearing, but Thea was sure she saw a little glance between Oliver and Robbie. Before she could dwell on it, Tommy walked into the room. He was already listing off how many times Oliver had been in a courtroom, times Thea wasn’t exactly keen to revisit.

“What about you? Are you coming?” Oliver asked her.

“I think the first four times were enough for me” she replied, her feelings clear.

“Fair enough, Robbie?”

“I think the tutor is coming over later” he answered, looking to Moira who nodded.

Mr Diggle arrived, telling them the car was ready, and Oliver, Moira, Walter and Tommy left with him, leaving Thea alone with Robbie. It had been over a week since Robbie had come to live with them and Thea still wasn’t sure what to think of him. He seemed nice enough but he barely said anything to anyone besides Oliver. He was polite but he answered questions either very vaguely or not at all. She knew she needed to be patient. Just like Oliver, he had been through a lot. However, unlike Oliver, nobody seemed to have any idea what had happened to him. Even now that it was just the two of them, he didn’t speak to her. He seemed lost in his own thoughts.

“So Robbie, how’s school going?”

Seriously, she was talking to him about school. He must have realised she had asked the question out of awkwardness.

“It’s alright. It’ll take some getting used to” he replied, smiling to try and make it less awkward.

Thea had no idea how to keep this conversation going, or at least no way other than to ask the questions she desperately wanted answers to.

“How did you and Ollie meet?” she asked, immediately regretting it.

She’d been resisting the temptation to just blurt out these kinds of questions since the meal last week. It had the same effect now that it had back then. It made her feel uncomfortable. Robbie lost his smile, as though he were remembering some horrific event.

“He found me and I saved his life.”

That was all he said. They stood in silence for a moment before Robbie left the room. Thea remained where she was, not entirely sure how to process this information. It all led back to the same question. What had happened on that island?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter I had already written so I'll need to write the next before posting it. I don't know how long it will be, hopefully not long.


	9. Assassination or Competition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x02 and 1x03

The crowd were chatting idly among themselves, all waiting for the big announcement. They all knew what it was going to be: the opening of the applied sciences centre dedicated to Robert Queen. Moira and Thea Queen stood by the podium while Walter was preparing something, his speech most likely. Robbie didn’t think he belonged with them, not in a public place like this. He drifted through the crowd, waiting for Oliver to arrive. He’d been out last night, crossing another name off his list. He said he hadn’t needed him so Robbie had stayed at the mansion. He didn’t know any of the people here. He assumed they were all business people and bureaucrats. Their clothes were certainly expensive enough. Standing alone, not talking to anyone, was a brunette woman that looked familiar somehow, though Robbie couldn’t quite place where he’d seen her. He hadn’t been introduced, he knew that much. It then hit him. This was Laurel Lance, the one from Oliver’s photo, the one whose sister Oliver had cheated on her with. How much did she hate Oliver, Robbie wondered. There was only one way to find out.

“Hello” he said to her.

“Hello” she replied, unsure why a stranger was talking to her.

“My name is Robbie Gray” he said, introducing himself.

Before he could say anything more, Laurel spoke.

“You’re living with the Queens, you came back with Oliver.”

Robbie wasn’t sure what to make of her tone.

“Yes” he said, uncertain.

“Tommy told me about you.”

Ah, that made sense.

“I just thought I should introduce myself, Oliver’s talked about you a lot.”

This wasn’t exactly true. Oliver hadn’t really talked about Laurel, and definitely not without prompting from Robbie. But Robbie wasn’t stupid. He knew that there was still something there between the two. After all, two of the three names they’d crossed off the list had been people that Laurel had been targeting with her legal work. Robbie had tried to get Oliver to talk about that, but he’d always pulled up the crimes they’d committed as his reason. Admittedly those crimes were numerous, but there was still the Laurel element.

“How are you finding Starling City?” Laurel asked, her tone now pleasant.

“It seems nice. I haven’t had a chance to see much of it.”

This also wasn’t entirely true, but she didn’t need to know that.

“How come?”

“I don’t think Mrs Queen wants me out and about until a formal statement is made, or something like that.”

Laurel nodded understandingly.

“Oliver tells me you’re a lawyer.”

“Yes I am.”

“Is that why you’re here?”

Before she could answer, a man with a familiar swagger approached them.

“OK, this is a surprise,” Tommy Merlyn said, playfully mocking, “did you show up here by mistake?”

He regarded Robbie very briefly before returning his attention to Laurel.

“By invitation. Oliver invited me last night.”

“Last night!” Tommy said incredulously.

“Is that surprise or jealousy I’m hearing?” Laurel asked, raising her eyebrow.

Tommy looked flustered. He tried answering, but each time he looked over at Robbie and stuttered and stopped. He didn’t get very far before Walter stood at the podium and began speaking. Robbie had to admit, he had a certain presence which made everyone hang on his every word. He supposed that was good for a businessman. He hadn’t been speaking for very long, when Oliver arrived. It wasn’t good. Robbie had heard stories, mostly from Tommy’s overactive mouth, about the playboy Oliver Queen. He wasn’t quite prepared to see it for himself. He took to the podium himself and began speaking and it was clear to Robbie what he was trying to do. He was trying to distance himself from what people expected him to be. Robbie could feel embarrassment emanating from his mother and sister. He left the stage and walked away. Laurel and Tommy looked uncomfortable. He certainly can play the part well, but it wasn’t exactly what Robbie had had in mind when he’d told Oliver to give his family something.

 

Robbie searched the computer screen scanning it for details. Behind him, he could hear Oliver training. Today he had decided to string up some cinder blocks to lift. He had been at for a long time, surely, Robbie thought, he must be getting tired by now.

“Your family is loving the return of Oliver the playboy.”

He knew Oliver wouldn’t say anything. The blocks fell and smashed on the ground as Oliver let go of the chain. He joined Robbie at the computers. They were in silence for a moment before Oliver said anything.

“You did say I needed to give them something.”

Robbie pulled a face but said nothing.

“That’s how they knew me before. It’ll be easier for them to accept.”

Robbie still said nothing, but Oliver could tell how he felt about it.

“Do you have something?” Oliver asked him.

“I think so. James Holder. His corporation put defective smoke detectors in low income housing in the Glades.”

“Fires?”

“Oh yes, and unfortunately, funerals.”

The book was open. Robbie saw Oliver scan the open pages and found Holder’s name. He also doesn’t have the Laurel factor, but Robbie didn’t say that. Oliver opened his case and retrieved his bow. Robbie didn’t need him to say anything. He knew that Oliver approved his choice. Now it was a matter of preparation.

 

Robbie was searching for more information on Holder when he heard Oliver return. He hadn’t expected him back so soon, unless Holder had caved at the first conversation. He could see Oliver’s leather top was torn slightly on the right arm. Had one of Holder’s men managed to hit him? Oliver said nothing. Instead he opened up a medical kit and began preparing for stitches. When he removed his top, Robbie got a good look at the wound. It looked like a grazing shot, nothing too bad. Oliver began stitching.

“You know I could do that.”

“You could.”

Oliver continued his work, only flinching slightly as he wound the wire through the wound.

“I guess Holder’s men were better shots than most.”

“It wasn’t them.”

Robbie was confused.

“What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t Holder’s men who shot me.”

“So who did?”

“The same person who killed James Holder.”

“Wait, Holder’s dead?”

Oliver said nothing, but Robbie could tell from his demeanour he wasn’t joking.

“What do you think then? Assassination or competition?”

Oliver finished his stitches and cleaned himself up. He picked up a pen so Robbie tossed him the book.

“It doesn’t matter. I guess it’s not surprising that a man as corrupt as James Holder has more than one enemy.”

“Had” Robbie said.

Oliver raised an eyebrow at him.

“Either way, we need to…”

He tried to speak, but as he got up from his chair he lurched forward, off balance. Robbie shot up. They both realised what was happening at the same time. Robbie flung open Oliver’s case and found a small bag of herbs. He tossed it to Oliver who already had a bottle of water in his hand. He took out a small pinch of the herbs and chewed them, before swallowing them with a big gulp of water. Robbie crouched beside him as Oliver lowered himself to the floor, eyes screwed shut. He let out a big gasp and took several deep breaths. His eyes opened slowly. Robbie didn’t need to say anything. Poison. This killer was professional.


	10. Out On His Own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x03

Robbie walked the streets of Starling City. Oliver was chasing leads about the hired gun that’d killed Holder. He’d suggested that he should familiarise himself more with the city. Robbie didn’t think much of the idea. A city is a city; one can’t be so much more different than another. He walked past shops and houses, businesses and wide open spaces. Yep, not that much different than back home. Home. That was a weird thought to Robbie. After all, Starling was his home now. There’d been a whole process, and now Robbie was an official ward of the Queen family. Now they were all practically family, another thought that felt weird to him. He’d been dropped off by Oliver somewhere downtown, but he found himself now in the Glades, like he was drawn here. He preferred it. Yes it was run down, yes there was a lot of suffering going on, but to him, it made it feel more real, less idyllic. He wasn’t worried about crime, not like the people he passed. They didn’t catch his eye. They kept their heads down, profiles low. It made his heart sink thinking about it. He checked the time. He’d been told to meet Oliver in an hour. A clatter behind him caught his attention. Somebody was getting thrown out of a building rather unceremoniously. The building looked like it had seen better days. Curious, he went to take a closer look.

 

Most of the windows had been boarded shut and there were few lights on inside. He slipped from one shadow to the next. The building was only three stories. He entered from the roof and worked his way down. The room he was in was piled high with boxes. One was slightly open, allowing him to see the contents: lots of small bags of white powder. Great, he was in the middle of a drug den. He could hear people talking downstairs. With great care, he worked his way towards them. The stairs seemed old, designed to creak loudly when walked on. Fortunately, Robbie was light on his feet and made no sound. He paused at an open door. He counted seven men, all sat around tables playing cards and talking amongst themselves. He could see weapons. Even more careful than before, he continued working his way down through the building. The ground floor seemed more clinical. He saw people hunched over tables, cutting and mixing white powders together.

“That pathetic man. Couldn’t wait to get his fix so he had to come knocking on our door.”

The voice was coming from the room behind him. The door was closed so he listened at the keyhole.

“It doesn’t matter,” a different voice said, “once this shipment has been processed, get it out on the streets.”

Movement on the other side of the door made Robbie retreat. He quickly extracted himself from the building, reeling from what he’d witnessed. Oliver’s crusade may be focussed on the rich and corrupt, but Robbie would be damned if he let these people put their filth on the streets. He didn’t know if Oliver would approve. After all, Oliver insisted that he always be disguised when he helped him. Not that Oliver needed to know about this of course. Robbie felt slightly guilty. He wasn’t a fan of secrets. He knew they were necessary but he preferred the truth. He would tell Oliver about this, but later. He was busy dealing with a hitman to worry about drug lords.

 

Darkness had fallen a while ago and the lights of the building struggled to illuminate anything. No matter, no matter, he thought, he had nothing to worry about. The police never bothered to come this way, the few that did he’d paid off. He sat in his ‘office’. That word didn’t seem right to him. It wasn’t so much an office as it was where he conducted his business. On the floor above was his cargo, the floor below his operation. His men milled around in the room beyond the door. Night was always a busy time. He knew he would have buyers coming. His product needed to be ready. He checked his watch and frowned. It must be a slow night. From somewhere else in the building he thought he heard a thud. Probably some idiot dropping something, he thought, pushing it aside and concentrating on his work. He found it very difficult because there was silence on the other side of the door. All his men had gone quiet. They would usually be talking and gaming amongst themselves, hired muscle to protect his little enterprise. There was another thud and the lights flickered. He heard shouting, more thuds and the loud bangs of gunshots. His men screamed. He stood ready, reaching into a drawer to retrieve his gun. What was going on out there? The door burst open and he aimed his weapon. It was one of his men, running from something. His legs were pulled out from under him by nothing and he was pulled back into the room. He stood before the open door. All the lights were flickering, sending shadows everywhere. Carefully, he made his way into the next room. All of his men were taken out. They lay on floor, were propped up against walls. Some nursed injuries, unable to fight anymore. Others were unconscious and lay where they had fallen. The culprit was nowhere in sight. The hood. That’s what the media called him and that was the first person to come to mind. But no, he targets the rich, the upper crust. Why would he stoop to go against a lowlife like him? Like a prey animal being stalked, he sensed someone behind. He whipped around, bringing his gun up ready to shoot. Stood before him was a boy, he could only have been a teenager. He wore a white robe like shirt, with black fabric tied around his waist. His legs were wrapped in fabric, in the flickering lights he couldn’t tell if they were white or grey or some combination of both. There was a piece of black fabric tied around his head, with eye holes cut into them. The boy had his head down but didn’t seem at all scared about being where he was.

“It’s not Halloween, little boy” he said, trying to sound intimidating.

It didn’t work. The boy didn’t react. He stood there silently, putting him on edge.

“I don’t think you realise where you are. Leave now, like a good little boy, and I won’t put a bullet in your brain.”

He held his gun out, pointing it at the boy. The boy raised his head, looking at him. The stare felt like he was getting physically pierced by something. The boy moved before he could react. He reached out and grabbed the gun and pulled him in closer. With an open palm, the boy hit him squarely in the chest. He felt the gun ripped from his grasp as he was thrown across the room by the blow, the wind knocked out of him. There was the sound of a phone ringing. He struggled to recover as he heard the phone being answered and an angry voice coming from the other end. He still lay sprawled on the floor, attempting to rise, when he heard the gun fall to the floor. From outside, there were lights and sirens. Somebody broke through the door downstairs and was shouting for everyone to get on their knees. He looked up, expecting to see the boy scarpering, but there was nobody else there. He had vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will probably be a little break this post and the next as I'm going on holiday. I may end up posting, but just a heads up.


	11. Telling the Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x04

John Diggle had experienced many things in his life. Two tours of Afghanistan and four years of private security showed you a lot about the world. This job however was the strangest. He’d received a call one day from a Moira Queen. It wasn’t unusual for him to be hired by the wealthy elite to act as a bodyguard so he wasn’t too surprised by the call. He’d arrived and been told he would be protecting Oliver Queen. He didn’t seem to want protection, but had accepted it with his mother’s urging. Everything had been going smoothly until Oliver vanished from the car. That was the first of many escapes made by Oliver Queen. John had taken it in his stride, not letting his frustration show too much. He had made it clear that he would do his job regardless of how comfortable that made Oliver, though it did annoy him. Besides how often he slipped the leash and the one incident involving the triad trying to kill Laurel, it had been a fairly uneventful job. Until now. Oliver had called him over, looking very concerned. John was familiar with the arrogant, playboy Oliver so seeing him serious like this made him feel uneasy. He had been told to get Moira and Thea out of there. Barely a moment later, someone tried taking a shot at Walter and would have killed him had Detective Lance not intervened. Between himself and Oliver, Thea and Moira were brought somewhere safe. Oliver seemed like a completely different person, ordering him to ensure that his mother and sister were safe before taking off. He had done so and then went after Oliver. He had been hired to protect him so he would be damned if he was going to let him get hurt. He’d followed the trail, somewhat indirectly and happened upon two people fighting, one of them was the hood. The gunman had him pinned down, and John, caught off guard by what he was seeing, was caught in the chest by a stray bullet. He remained standing until the hood killed the gunman. He hadn’t been able to stand much longer and had collapsed on the floor. He was only vaguely aware that he was being helped away by the hood. Where he was being taken he had no idea, wherever it was it was dark. His vision was going hazy and his balance was off. He could feel the blood pouring from the gunshot wound. He was led down stairs and laid on a table. He heard a voice yelling into a phone, ordering somewhere to get there now. The hood was back at his side, tipping a bowl of water into his mouth. He drank until he realised there was something crushed into the water, making him splutter. He could barely see his vision was so clouded, but once he had drank his head seemed to stop spinning. It was all too much however and he passed out.

 

He was in and out of consciousness. He heard people speaking, felt pressure on his wound but felt no pain from it, saw hands wrapped in a soft green light. John woke later. He had no idea how long he’d been out. He was in some kind of basement; that was all he could tell. He looked down his body and saw blood. He felt the area. It was his blood, but there was no wound, not even pain. He remembered being shot. What was going on? He rolled over onto his side and he saw someone stand up. He recognised the outfit. It was the hood, but something was missing. There was no hood and John could see exactly who it was. “Hey.” John sat up properly and looked again. There was no mistaking it. The hood was Oliver Queen.

 

“Oliver?”

He nodded. John stood up, still finding it hard to believe.

“You’re that vigilante?” Oliver looked like he wanted to contest that, but John didn’t care. He swung has fist at him. Oliver ducked under it easily, and John ended up sprawled against a table with computers on. He must still be a little off balance.

“Easy Dig. You were poisoned” Oliver said so matter-of-factly.

“You son of a bitch” he said throwing another punch.

Oliver didn’t try and avoid it this time. He caught the punch and pulled John around into hold. Gently he pushed him back towards the table he’d been lying on.

“I thought he’d react like this.”

This wasn’t Oliver, it was someone else. It sounded British. John looked around and found him. Behind the computer table was a salmon ladder. Leaning against one of the sides, sat on the metal bar, was Robbie Gray. He was dressed in an outfit like Oliver’s. A white robe like top with leg wrappings of white and grey and a belt of black fabric. Around his neck hung more black fabric which John guessed was some kind of eye mask.

“You as well?” he said incredulously.

Oliver turned to Robbie, holding up an arm to tell him to be silent.

“I could have taken you anywhere. I could have taken you home. I brought you here” Oliver said to John.

What was that supposed to mean? John could barely take it.

“You really did lose your mind on that island.”

It made sense now. Escaping from protection, the way he’d been acting towards his family, the walls he’d put up, all of it a cover to be a vigilante.

“Found a couple of things along the way” Oliver replied.

“What like archery classes, and…” he shot back, looking up at Robbie, who sat silently observing the two of them.

“Clarity” Oliver cut in.

“Starling City is dying. It is being poisoned by a criminal elite who don’t care who they hurt, as long as they maintain their wealth and power.”

John couldn’t believe he was hearing this. It was like Oliver was trying to justify his actions, like he was expecting him to understand, even agree with him.

“And what are you going to do? Take them all down with your little sidekick?”

Robbie opened his mouth to speak but Oliver once again put a hand up to stop him. Robbie looked like he wanted to argue but remained silent.

“No. I want you to join me.”

John shook his head, looking incredulous. How did Oliver expect him to answer that? He would have answered but Oliver kept talking.

“You’re special forces out of Kandahar, it’s perfect. You’re a fellow soldier.”

“Oliver you’re not a soldier” he said, getting up and closing the distance between them, “you’re a criminal, and a murderer.”

He turned around, throwing Oliver a look of disgust before leaving. He was surprised that Oliver didn’t try and stop him. Oliver watched him go. Robbie came to stand by his side, also watching Diggle leave.

“And where were you tonight?”

Robbie looked uncomfortably down at his feet. Tonight was definitely a night for the truth.


	12. Trust in the Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x04 and 1x05

Diggle was sitting alone in the Big Belly Burger. There was nobody else in, besides some staff, who were all in the back. Robbie had no idea what he was going to say to him. He just felt that he owed him a bit more of an explanation. He walked into the restaurant. Diggle looked up as he entered but said nothing. Robbie sat across the table from him.

“I suppose you’re here to try and convince me as well.”

“Has Oliver already tried?”

Diggle said nothing. He didn’t make eye contact with Robbie.

“I felt like you deserved some answers.”

“You’re like a repeat. Oliver already told me about how his father gave him a mission and then committed suicide so that he could live.”

Robbie’s face fell. He hadn’t known that. He knew that Robert Queen had given Oliver his mission, and that he had died, but not the intimate details. Diggle must have realised what he’d said.

“You didn’t know.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Then why do you follow his lead? You’ve seen the things he’s done, how are you ok with it?”

“Because he’s all I have.”

Diggle looked confused, and waited for Robbie to continue speaking.

“When Oliver found me, he was already a very, shall we say, damaged individual. I wasn’t much better. In a very short space of time, I then lost everything that I had. He was there for me. Consequently, I was there for him when he went through his final time in hell. He doesn’t force me to do anything, I do it willingly.”

“And you’re fine with it, the killing?”

Robbie shrugged.

“I know at least some of what he’s been through. When I think about that, I’m grateful it’s only the corrupt elites he’s interested in pointing his bow at.”

Robbie stood up to leave.

“Oliver is trying to do good, in his own way. I’m trying to do good. I know that you want to do good as well.”

Robbie left Diggle to his thoughts.

 

It had all been going so well. Oliver had saved an innocent man from execution, crossed one more name on his list, and Diggle had decided to join them. Then the police arrived. They’d barged in and arrested Oliver. Lance had seemed very sure of his charges. He must have something. Robbie and Diggle could do little more than watch, playing the part that Oliver was innocent of all the crimes laid at his feet. They took him away, Walter frantically making phone calls. Thea was close to hysterics, Moira was struggling to calm her down. Robbie was struggling to think of a way out of this mess. He marched off towards his room, hoping to get away from the shouting and crying. Diggle was following him. When they reached his room, they entered and Diggle shut the door.

“What now?” Diggle asked.

“I don’t know.”

“So this wasn’t part of the plan?”

“Not that I was aware.”

Robbie was pacing. He made himself stop, but that just turned to playing with his hands.

“So Oliver doesn’t even tell you his plans!”

“He does.”

Diggle raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him.

“Eventually.”

“So what do we do?”

Robbie calmed himself down, taking deep breaths.

“We wait.”

 

Oliver was in his room. Robbie met Diggle at the door and filled him in on what had happened. Laurel had managed to get Oliver out on bail, under the condition of house arrest. He had a GPS tracker on his ankle. The situation was not good. Robbie knew Oliver was alone, so he didn’t knock on the door. He entered with Diggle behind him.

“Thank you for coming. Shut the door”

Oliver greeted them with a measured calm, like they had arranged to meet for coffee. Diggle shut the door and Robbie took his place on the end of Oliver’s bed. Oliver was sat with his laptop; Robbie could see a news article on it.

“I guess it was just a matter of time before the police caught up with you” Diggle said calmly.

“Except they didn’t” Oliver replied.

“What!” Robbie said, shocked.

“Oliver, they got you on video” Diggle said, trying to make Oliver see.

“I knew the security camera was there, just like I knew the police would review the footage and arrest me. All part of the plan”

Robbie was at a loss for words. He just shook his head, chuckling to himself at the boldness.

“So you wanted to get arrested?” Diggle asked. Robbie perked up, also curious.

“Well I returned to Starling City and a few days later the vigilante appears. Sooner or later, somebody was going to make the connection.”

“So what part of serving yourself up to the police will help you avoid going to prison for the rest of your life?” Robbie asked.

“There’s more to it.”

“Well there’d better be, for your sake, because your family is freaking out downstairs” Diggle said.

“They just got you back. Please don’t put them through anymore” Robbie said, almost pleading.

“Don’t you care?” Diggle said, sounding accusatory.

“Of course I care” Oliver replied, his voice low and levelled.

Robbie wanted to recoil hearing it, but Diggle stood his ground.

“The mission comes first.”

He turned his laptop around so that Robbie and Diggle could see it.

“Leo Mueller, German arms dealer. He’s suspected of stealing a whole cache of automatic weapons.”

Robbie and Diggle waited expectantly.

“Last night he arrived in Starling City to sell the guns.”

“Don’t you think you’re in enough trouble than to go after this guy?” Diggle said.

“I think about what would happen if a street gang got their hands on military grade hardware. I think about our streets turned into a warzone.”

“But Oliver, you’re under house arrest,” Robbie said, “you’re not like me. You can’t be in two places at once.”

“Look for now, I would just like you to shadow Mueller. I want you to track his movements. I want to know where the buy is happening.”

Diggle considered for a moment, before agreeing. Oliver looked to Robbie, who slowly nodded.

“There are trackers in the warehouse. Use those, and stay ready.”

 

The party was in full swing. Moira was watching it with an air of disdain. Robbie joined her at the window, looking out into the garden.

“He’s only been back a few weeks and this is, what, the second, third big party he’s been to.”

Moira sighed.

“Yes well, Oliver always did love a party. Even if it is completely inappropriate.”

She walked away. Robbie didn’t think it would be a good idea to follow. She was dealing with enough already. He walked through the house, dodging around people in various states of drunkenness. He checked his watch. He wasn’t expecting anything. Diggle had planted the tracker earlier that day; it was just a matter of time before they had something. Knowing the time helped him to calm down. He made it back to the entrance hall. Oliver and Diggle also arrived there and Robbie followed them back to Oliver’s room. They were looking at a phone when he closed the door.

“Mueller’s been in the warehouse district of the Glades for 45 minutes. Perfect for an arms deal” Oliver said.

“Ok. So this is all happening tonight. What are we going to do? Call the police?” Diggle asked.

“No, the man in the hood, he’s going to stop them.”

“Oliver, you can’t leave the house” Diggle said, “you’re good, but not that good.”

“I never said it would be me wearing the hood.”

He looked at Robbie expectantly. Diggle raised an eyebrow, unsure what he meant, while Robbie met his gaze.

“You’re serious?” Robbie asked.

“What’s going on? He can’t wear your hood, nobody in their right mind would believe he was you” Diggle said, struggling to understand.

Robbie looked down, his smile betrayed by the rest of his expression.

“So you threw this whole party just so that there’d be witnesses. People who could say you were here while I’m across town in your hood.”

“I just wanted you to be seen in it. I didn’t count on the buy happening tonight. I also didn’t count on…”

Robbie cut him off.

“Oliver you don’t need to explain. I know you didn’t count on this. What I didn’t know was that you’d keep me in the dark, right up until you needed my help. I don’t appreciate being strung along.”

Diggle looked at them both.

“Oliver, you trust us with your crusade. The least you could do is trust is with the full plan” he said, keeping his calm tone, though Robbie could tell he wanted to shout.

Oliver didn’t respond, so Robbie turned to leave.

“So am I going to jail?” Oliver asked.

“No Oliver, you’re not. I just have an arms deal to stop.”

Robbie left the room. Diggle followed him shortly after as he made his way to his room.

“See what I mean. He tells me eventually.”

“Doesn’t stop it from being any less of a dick move.”

“Yeah well, if I couldn’t put up with that from Oliver, I probably would have ripped his head off a long time ago.”

Diggle paused.

“Is that a figure of speech or?”

Robbie turned to face him. He made himself look like he was genuinely contemplating it before Diggle threw up his hands.

“Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

They reached Robbie’s room. The party hadn’t spread to this part of the house, thankfully.

“How are we going to get there? Wouldn’t people be wondering where you’ve gone?”

Robbie held the door handle.

“We cheat.”

He turned the handle and opened the door. On the other side wasn’t his bedroom, but stairs leading down to the lair. He walked through and Diggle followed. Even though he had his back to him, he could tell that Diggle didn’t know what to say. Robbie approached the case where Oliver kept his bow.

“How did you do that?” Diggle was looking at him, his eyes wide with shock.

Robbie was honestly surprised he’d walked through the door at all.

“Like I said. We cheated, took a shortcut.”

He took hold of the bow. It didn’t feel comfortable in his hands. It was Oliver’s bow after all. Also in the case was the hood. Oh the demons that came to life in Oliver when he wore that hood. Now he had to channel them. There were some gun runners who needed to see hell.


	13. Vigilante Problem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x06

Three squad cars pulled up, sirens blaring. Detective Lance led the charge into the building. They’d received a call about suspicious noises. They said they’d heard screams, crashes and gunshots from inside. Just a typical night in the Glades, he thought, especially with the damn hood guy around. He wondered who it was this time. The door was ajar, he could see the lights on inside. All seemed quiet. They entered in the standard formation. There were bodies everywhere. Lance crouched low, feeling for the pulse of the nearest one. He found it. The other officers spread out into the building; some went upstairs, others into the neighbouring room. They all reported the same. Lots of people, all unconscious. Lance looked around, inspecting the room he was in. It looked like the main hub of the building and seemed to be where most of the fighting had happened. There were bullet holes in the walls, casings on the floor. He saw several knives. But where were the arrows? The lights flickered. Despite his experience, it unsettled him. They flickered again and he heard a muffled scream. All of the officers, Lance included, started searching for the source. The vigilante is still here, Lance thought.

“Detective!”

He ran through the ground floor and found one of his officers stood at an open door. It looked to Lance like a cupboard, but his torch beam quickly found the ladder leading down into what he could only guess was a basement. He exchanged a look with the officer at the door, before cursing silently and descending. He moved quickly. At the bottom he swung around, gun raised, and surveyed the scene. He saw boxes, lots of them. Some were tipped over, their contents strewn all over the floor. Guns, ammo, a small arsenal of weaponry. He could hear a whimpering and remembered why he’d come down here. He hurried over and saw a man cowering in the corner. He’d been beaten. His face was heavily bruised and the way his breathing was sharp and quick, Lance guessed that he had several broken ribs. He looked around. Again, no arrows. Lance was unsettled yet again. One vigilante in his city was bad enough, but two! He figured the guy in the corner wouldn’t attack, but he held his gun ready anyway.

“What happened here?” he demanded of the cowering figure.

“He, he, he came out of nowhere. I, I” the man stammered, fear lacing every word.

Lance approached, cautiously.

“Who did? The vigilante?”

The man shook his head, his eyes darting in every direction.

“Who?”

The man said nothing. Lance was just about to put away his gun when the man lurched forward. Lance stepped back quickly, gun raised.

“He, he. I don’t know what he did, but he, he, was everywhere. In every shadow, in every room. We shot at him but it didn’t do anything. Then he was behind us.”

The man devolved into unintelligible babbling, clearly too terrified to make coherent sentences.

“Lance.” He turned to see Pike joining him in the basement.

“There was someone still conscious on the first floor. He kept babbling about ghosts or something.”

“Yeah, same with this one here” Lance said, gesturing to the man sobbing in the corner.

“What do we think?”

“I think this city has a vigilante problem.”

 

The pipes rang as they hit one another. Oliver and John moved carefully, building a rhythm before Oliver would inevitably get the upper hand. Each time was different, and John was a quick study. Nevertheless, Oliver was better.

“One of these days, you’ll tell me what happened to on that island.”

“Absolutely, but not today.”

“I’ll tell you my story, if you tell me yours.”

This was Robbie. They finished their sparring as he approached. He was wearing his combat gear. It wasn’t like Oliver’s; John surmised that it was designed more for movement than for protection. It certainly succeeded in that. The few times that John had seen him wearing it, he moved very comfortably and fluidly. He also knew that Robbie could handle himself in a fight. They’d sparred together, and John had been just as able to fight him as he had been to fight Oliver.

“And where exactly were you last night?” Oliver asked.

“Keeping myself occupied.”

Robbie sat down at the computers.

“And what does that mean?”

Robbie ignored him. He looked at what Oliver had on the screens.

“Scott Morgan. Fiddles with water and gas prices, and generally not a nice person. Is he your next target?”

Oliver minimised the screens, and glared at Robbie, like he was demanding an answer.

“You were out on your own again, weren’t you?”

“I didn’t think I needed your permission” Robbie smirked.

Oliver stood, hands on hips, looking disapprovingly at Robbie. Robbie remained seated, looking up at Oliver.

“There is more good that could be done in this city than just taking down corrupt business people, you know.”

“But those people, the ones that you’re targeting, they’re just a symptom of the problem.”

“And sometimes, you have to fight the symptoms of a disease as well as the disease itself.”

John observed the pair of them. He’d been wrong about Robbie. He wasn’t just a sidekick; he wasn’t a repeat of Oliver.

“Oliver” he spoke up. Oliver turned his glare on him.

“Shady officials aren’t the only people in this city who could use your attention. Look at this.”

He opened up a browser and found a news article. It was about a series of bank robberies, the latest one being in Starling City.

“That’s not a problem I’m interested in solving.”

John hadn’t even said anything more. Robbie looked like he was going to speak but Oliver spoke first.

“I have my mission. I know what I need to do. Every name I cross of the list is one less person to ruin this city.”

His tone was final. He left John and Robbie alone.

“What did you hit?” John asked him.

“Weapons cache. Leftovers from Mueller’s operation.”

John sighed.

“He could be so much more than just a vigilante.”

“Yes he could, if only he could see it.”


	14. A Normal Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x09

Winter had seemed to come out of nowhere. The weather in Starling had grown wetter and colder, the wind biting at any exposed skin. In the warehouse, they were out of the wind and the rain, but that just left them in a still coldness. Robbie didn’t notice it. He watched as Oliver and Diggle trained with knives. Diggle was definitely improving, not that he’d started off particularly bad. He moved well, but was keeping his knife too firm in his hand. Sure enough, when Oliver quickly switched up, Diggle couldn’t react quickly enough and was left with a cut.

“Another round?” Oliver asked him.

“No thanks.”

“Robbie?”

“Sure why not.”

Robbie got up and took Diggle’s knife. They started slow. They stabbed out, they blocked, using their free hands and forearms to direct each other around. The pace picked up, but Robbie managed.

“You’ve both been busy. Crossing off names. Tackling crime.”

“Most people are just giving up now” Robbie said.

“I guess the hood and the ghost have quite the reputation.”

Robbie paused for a split second. The police had nicknamed him the ghost, just as they had named Oliver the hood. It made sense and he was apt to use the fear that the name inspired, but it always amused him hearing people say it. As he knew he would, Oliver took advantage of his momentary lapse in concentration, but Robbie had been ready. The exchange sped up, faster than it had been with Diggle, but when it was clear that Robbie could defend, it slowed down again. Robbie saw Diggle checking his watch.

“I’ve got to take my nephew to see Santa in a bit.”

Oliver caught Robbie’s arm, and Robbie caught his. They both locked the other in place.

“Christmas” Oliver let out.

“What is that again?” Robbie said playfully.

The lock broke and Oliver swung. Robbie stepped back to avoid it, showing that this sparring session was over.

“Five years, is that how long it takes to forget about it?” Diggle asked.

“No, just that when everyday could be your last, you tend to lose track of time.”

Oliver looked bittersweet.

“My dad would throw this huge party. The whole house would be covered in tinsel, holly wreaths, ornaments, there would be Christmas trees everywhere.”

“Is that how the upper crust celebrate the holidays?” Robbie asked, smiling to show he wasn’t serious.

“I miss it.”

Both Oliver and Robbie let their faces fall, remembering years gone by.

“Maybe you should both take a break. I reckon that there’s a very different list with your names on it” Diggle said as he packed away his things, getting ready to leave.

Robbie looked at Oliver, trying to read his thoughts. He knew that Oliver wanted at least this little bit of normalcy. He would try his best to give him that.

 

The house hadn’t been decorated. It was still as bare as you would expect to find a billionaire's mansion. Robbie had arrived back ahead of Oliver, of course. As far as the Queens were concerned, he’d never left. Oliver had joined his mother and Walter at a dinner. Thea and Robbie weren’t invited. Robbie had been trying his best to be friendly with Thea; the awkwardness between the two had been getting unbearable. So when they had found themselves alone, he had suggested that they raid the freezer and watch some TV. Something simple, something normal. The lights were dimmed, tubs of ice cream were in hand and they sat in silence. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence as had been the case before. Thea had chosen what to watch, it was some cop show. They occasionally made comments to one another. Everything seemed to be going well, so Robbie didn’t want to ask the question he wanted to ask.

“Oliver said there’d be decorations” he said, finally working up the courage.

“He did, did he?”

They both sat watching, letting the silence fall again.

“After Ollie disappeared, nobody really wanted to celebrate anymore.”

That made sense to Robbie.

“What were the parties like?”

“Oh you know.”

“No I don’t.”

They looked at each other. It was true, he didn’t know. His family hadn’t been poor, but compared to the Queens, they may as well have had no money at all. Thea looked confused.

“There weren’t any fancy parties for me growing up or at least none that I remember.”

“Oh.”

Thea looked back at the screen and Robbie hoped he hadn’t said the wrong thing.

“Well, a fancy party is just lots of bite size food and champagne. The adults all stand around talking, the kids get left at home or put in a room for the evening.”

“Sounds boring.”

“Well, I was twelve.”

“Even worse. I bet you got up to some mischief though.”

“Of course.”

Thea smiled and continued.

“The challenge was to get into the room and steal some of the food. Maybe even hide under a table and scare somebody. One time, I scared someone so much they jumped completely out of their skins and spilled red wine all over someone’s white dress.”

“Oh no” Robbie said, pulling a face, “please tell me it was expensive.”

“So expensive.”

They both laughed. When they fell silent again, the atmosphere was considerably lighter than it had been. “Do you miss them, the parties?” Robbie asked. “I don’t know” Thea replied. They watched the rest of the show without talking about Christmas.

 

Robbie wasn’t sure it was a good idea. He sat on Oliver’s bed, watching him typing a message. He’d pitched a return to form for the Queen family, the return of the annual Christmas party. Thea hadn’t seemed too keen on it, but Moira had eventually relented. Now Oliver was trying to plan a fairly last minute party.

“What?” Oliver didn’t even take his eyes from the computer.

“What?”

“I can feel you looking at me. What do you want to say?” Robbie sighed.

“Is a party really going to work?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that it’s been five years since your mother and sister have had one. It might be a bit much to suddenly throw them back into it.”

Oliver stopped what he was doing briefly. It was only then that Robbie saw that he had multiple windows open, and only one was about party business.

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing to one in particular.

“Adam Hunt’s been killed. He was killed by an archer, a good one” Oliver replied, still not looking at Robbie.

Robbie considered that for a moment.

“Why don’t you go get him, forget about throwing the party?”

Oliver stopped, standing up to face Robbie. It was an imposing force.

“I have said that I will organise this party, and that is what I am going to do.”

He sat down but didn’t continue working.

“You really want this” Robbie said softly.

Oliver sighed, avoiding looking at Robbie.

“I never thought about what normal would feel like, being back at home. But then I thought about everything I’ve missed. Mom smiling at one of Dad’s bad jokes. Thea and I racing to see who can finish a candy cane first. I always let her win.”

That last bit was quieter, and he actually looked him in the eye to say it.

“I just want that feeling back.”

“You want to be happy.”

Oliver said nothing. He turned back and continued working.

 

Thea woke up to hear someone moving about downstairs. This was notable; after all it’s a large house. She tried getting back to sleep, but her curiosity eventually got the better of her. She made her way through the house to the living room. Walter had already left for work, and she was the only other one up. Or so she thought. She entered the living room and saw Robbie picking through boxes. There were several of them, all at the foot of a large fir tree. She didn’t know quite what to say. Robbie took a long string of tinsel from a box.

“What are you doing?”

Robbie looked at her, unaware that she’d been there.

“Decorating a tree.”

He said it as if it was so obvious, which it was.

“I can see that, but why?”

Robbie strung up the tinsel and took several baubles from another box.

“Your family threw big parties to celebrate Christmas. This is what my family did.”

Carefully and precisely, he hooked the baubles to branches of the tree. Thea could see him smiling, like he was remembering something happy.

“We weren’t poor, but we weren’t exactly well off. My parents were always really busy. Christmas was one of the few times when we could all be together.”

Thea approached, very slowly, hanging on his every word. He never spoke about himself like this.

“We would go out and buy a tree. There was this guy a few streets away who sold them. We would buy a tree and bring it home. We’d decorate it together.”

He laughed.

“It used to take us hours. We’d fool about, we’d dance around like idiots to cheesy Christmas music.”

He looked on the verge of tears.

“We’d be happy. Dad would pick Lucas and Jay up to put things on the top. I’d stand on a chair giving my mum a heart attack while I attached the star. That’s what we did at Christmas.”

He seemed lost in his own thoughts. Thea wanted to go further, but decided against it. Instead, she reached into a box and pulled out a small felt Santa Claus and hooked it onto a branch. This pulled Robbie out of his reverie.

“Where did you get all of this stuff?”

“Oliver helped me. The boxes were in a cupboard somewhere and he helped me get the tree.”

“Where is Ollie?” she asked.

“He went to the club. I think he’s a little embarrassed.”

Thea raised her eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

“Because the idea of a party didn’t go down well, and he didn’t know how to back down from it.”

Thea chuckled. That was so much like her brother. They continued decorating the tree. Sometimes Robbie would pull out a decoration and just stare at it for a while before putting it back in the box. Thea didn’t know why, nor did she care to ask. This little bit of normalcy felt good. After a while, her mother came to see what was going on. She smiled warmly at the pair of them joking around. Almost like a family.

 

Robbie was proud of himself. He’d gone a whole day without an awkward moment between himself and Thea. Moira had even joined in the decorating. It wasn’t much. A tree in the living room, some stockings hung on the mantelpiece. His family never did that bit but it seemed right. Nevertheless, the Christmas spirit could be felt around the house. To Robbie, it was bringing back memories, and made him think. He was sixteen. What did a sixteen year old get for Christmas? What would his parents have got him? He’d probably be more responsible for buying his own gifts. What would he have got for people? What would he get people now? All of these thoughts played out in his head. Questions that, if he was honest, he didn’t have answers to. It had been so long since he’d been in a situation like this. Since the day his brothers went missing. Since his family fell apart. Since he found himself in his own hell. He checked his phone and found several texts and mixed calls, all from Diggle. He opened the first. _We need you here. The copycat’s escalated. He’s taken hostages._ All the other messages were in a similar vein. He sat down in the middle of his room, took a deep breath and meditated. He was looking for Oliver. It wouldn’t be difficult. He’d come to know what Oliver felt like quite well, only he had that combination of brooding, guilt and determination. Sure enough, he felt it. Oliver was fighting, he knew that. He quickly called Diggle.

“Diggle, what’s…” he said when he answered.

He couldn’t speak more than that. He felt in his back two sharp sensations, like stabbing, one after the other. Pain seared through his body briefly before subsiding. Oh god, he thought, Oliver.

“Robbie?” Diggle said on the other end.

“Dig, Oliver needs you. I’ll be there as soon as I can, but you need to get to him, NOW!”

He was serious. If this is what he was feeling all the way out here, he had no idea what it was actually like for Oliver. Diggle hung up. Robbie hoped that he was going to help Oliver. He calmed himself, breathing deeply, flushing the pain from his system. He’d been an entirely different person for the whole day, and now he was being brought back down to Earth.


	15. One More For The Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x13 and 1x14

Kelly couldn’t help but like the dark. In the shadows, she felt so much more secure. The day always made her feel exposed, out in the open, vulnerable. Even now, surrounded by countless men, much bigger than her, all armed with guns, she felt no fear. She wasn’t an idiot thought. Starling City was quite the interesting city to work in, especially recently. She would be a fool if she hadn’t thought of an escape plan. The men around her were all hers. Bought and paid for, she loved mercenaries. The old train they were in had a quaint sort of feel to it. Hopefully, it would be out of the way enough for the meeting to be uninterrupted. She heard the sound of car doors slamming. Sure enough, they were joined by more people. If she was honest, she didn’t care who they were. They had money, she had something to sell. They were also armed, and they eyed her mercenaries cautiously.

“I’d like to speak to the person in charge” the leader said, a Spanish accent only slightly showing in his voice.

“That would be me” she replied, raising her hand like she was volunteering in school.

The man eyed her up and down. She responded in kind. He wasn’t much to look at. Balding, his suit had definitely seen better days. She wondered if he was just a middleman, sent to buy her wares. She tried reading his face, seeing what he was thinking, but he held himself professionally. They stepped towards one another. Both sets of armed men held their guns firm.

“I wasn’t expecting someone like you.”

“What, a woman?” she replied, her tone playful.

“No. Someone so young” he said respectfully.

She liked him.

“I assume then that you have it on your person” he said.

“And what makes you say that?”

“I see no boxes or containers with you.”

She laughed.

“Where would a girl get a box at this time of night?”

She reached into a pouch she wore on her left hip. From it, she withdrew a necklace. From what light there was in the train yard, it shone like silver, but what really drew the man’s attention was the large stone. It almost looked black, but every now and again, as the necklace moved, the light caught it and they could see its deep blue colour.

“Platinum chain, the gem is a sapphire. It was quite the adventure getting it.”

“I’m sure it was Ms Jane. My client will be most pleased with it.”

“Well if your client wants more, they are more than welcome to meet in person to see the rest.”

“The rest?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“Did you really think I’d take one thing and leave? No, no, no. I rinsed that old crone for everything shiny she owned.”

The man said nothing.

“Did you know she wore diamond rings to bed?”

“You are certainly good at what you do?”

“I do try.”

The heard what sounded like a cut off scream from somewhere in the yard. The mercenaries and thugs on both sides looked about nervously. The man she was talking with seemed the most perturbed. Kelly looked around herself. This wasn’t the police. No, they would have come in all guns and shouting. This must be…

“Vigilante” she said under her breath. She had wondered if she’d see one. Some of the man’s men went to investigate.

“You idiots. Stay together!” he yelled at them.

There were more screams and a couple of gunshots. Apprehension was seeping into her system. Like a cat in the night, she sensed someone behind. She whipped around. Standing on top of a shipping container, overlooking the whole scene, was one of the vigilantes. The mercenaries noticed it as well. As a unit, they raised their guns and opened fire. The gunshots sang through the air but the vigilante wasn’t fazed. He turned and ran, dropping down on the other side of the container. Several men went to give chase. Behind her, she heard someone being hit. She turned just in time to see the vigilante smacking the gun out of one of her mercenaries hands. He was good. The man had ran, his goons scattering. Her mercenaries were putting up a better fight. The vigilante melted into the shadows as his opponents bore down on him.

“Ghost!”

That’s what the goons were shouting. Seeing him fight, she thought it made sense. Now was a good time to make her escape. She wove her way through the old trains and containers of the yard, making for the old chain link fence on the south side. She rounded a corner and was met with an arm. It swung from the shadow, hitting her hard in the face and sending her sprawling on her back. Her vision swam slightly as someone moved around her. They reached down and grabbed her pouch. She grabbed the arm and used that to pull herself up, hoping to bring the person down as she did so. It didn’t work, they braced and instead swung her around, breaking her grip. She could get a better look now.

“You’re just a kid!”

She couldn’t help sounding so incredulous. She was not someone who should be lecturing anybody on age, but this was ridiculous. He could only be a teenager.

“You’re the ghost?”

The kid cocked his head to one side, as if he was trying to get the measure of her.

“You’re a thief” he said.

His voice seemed whispery, echoing as if it was coming from everywhere.

“A girl’s got to make a living.”

“But you don’t need the money.”

“I disagree.”

“Kelly Jane, born Kelly Killing, heiress to the Killing Foundation, one of the largest pharmaceutical companies in Europe.”

He had her there.

“I still disagree.”

The area was filled with sirens. Orders barked over megaphones sounded from behind her. She could hear gravel crunching as people moved through the train yard. Her guard slipped slightly and the ghost pounced. He was fast, she could barely react in time. She blocked his punch but it had been a distraction. His other hand went to her waist and ripped the pouch from her belt. She tried to grab it but he already aimed a kick which caught her squarely in the stomach, knocking her once again to her back. She looked up, ready to reengage in the fight but the ghost was gone. The gravel crunching was right behind her. Torch beams cast her shadow wide in front of her.

“Freeze! Don’t move!”

It would do her no good to try and run. I can be patient, Kelly thought, the police don’t scare me. But she did admit to herself, the shadows had somewhat lost their protection. Now she had something to fear in the dark.

 

It had been a successful evening. The sale of stolen jewellery had been disrupted and the goods handed over to the police. Robbie returned to the warehouse, almost with a spring in his step. It was only when he saw Diggle waiting, his face full of apprehension, that Robbie remembered what was happening tonight. He slowed down, but Diggle had already seen his smile.

“How did it go?” he asked pleasantly.

“It went well” he said, trying not to sound too happy about it.

“I saw that the police apprehended a well-known jewel thief and several wanted hit men.”

Robbie didn’t want to say much more. Diggle seemed to realise and let it drop. There was some silence before Robbie spoke up.

“How did he handle it?”

“What, realising that his mother was somehow involved in the list, or going to talk to her?”

“Both.”

Diggle considered for a moment.

“He took it about as well as could be expected for someone finding out about his mother's secrets.”

“I don’t blame him. I never thought Moira would be involved.”

“Well we always have a blind spot for our family.”

Robbie nodded his agreement. He took the seat next to Diggle as they both waited for Oliver to return.

 

It felt like hours. Robbie had quickly grown restless and took his restlessness out on a training dummy. John listened to him train. Robbie had taken the news about Moira well, better than Oliver, but he had expected that. Oliver had simply refused to believe it. He’d spent hours listening to the recording that John had taken, which had been the final nail in the coffin. John knew that it was only a matter of time before Oliver would accept it. Robbie hadn’t said much. He didn’t try to talk to Oliver, not to convince him, not to side with him. He’d left to go hunt a jewel thief, John assumed to clear his head. He’d returned a while later, after Oliver had already gone to confront Moira. He wasn’t the most expressive person. He easily rivalled Oliver in terms of keeping things to himself. Even after working together for months, John knew barely anything about him. John sat at the computer desk, idly watching the news. He had long learned how to take shocking news and transform it into calm. In Afghanistan, it was a necessary part of survival. He’d almost forgotten that instinct in the four years he’d been stateside, but Oliver had helped him get it back. It had definitely proven useful. Robbie stopped beating the dummy and took to pacing in a circle. John had seen him focussed before. For whatever reason, he seemed to be struggling to settle down. John didn’t have the words to help. He knew that sometimes it was better to blow off some steam. Eventually, Robbie sat himself down next to him. Neither said anything. He had no idea whether Robbie was paying attention.

“Eyewitnesses report that the Starling City vigilante, known to police as the hood, attacked Mrs Queen in her office earlier tonight.”

So the conversation had happened, John thought, so why wasn’t Oliver back yet.

“Excuse me” someone said behind the pair of them.

John acted on instinct, drawing his gun and aiming it at them. Robbie had sprung up into a ready stance. The person rushed over. They had blonde hair and their shirt was covered in blood.

“Felicity?” he asked incredulously.

She was an IT technician from Queen Consolidated that Oliver had asked for help from a few times. He had no idea what she was doing here, or how she’d found them. She must have known they’d be here, she didn’t seemed that fazed.

“Can you help me? He’s really heavy.”

What had happened? John rushed off, following Felicity back to her car. Oliver was passed out on the back seat. There was an awful lot of blood. As gently as he could, he got Oliver out of the car and carried him back to the warehouse, constantly checking that nobody was watching. Oliver was a large man, it was an effort to get him to the lair. Robbie had a table waiting, and John laid Oliver on it. Together, they wheeled the table to the centre of the floor, where there was more light, and began inspecting the wound. It was a single gunshot.

“Dammit, just missed the carotid” he said, his army medical training taking over.

“That sounds bad” Felicity said, nervously.

“Very” Robbie said.

John went to retrieve supplies.

“I should have taken him to a hospital” Felicity said, flustered.

“No, he asked you to bring him here” John said to her.

He exchanged a look with Robbie. Robbie nodded and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. Felicity jumped back with a small gasp. Robbie’s hands were glowing green. It looked like he was playing with his hands, but as he was doing so, the glow followed. It looked like some kind of glowing emerald liquid was flowing between his fingers. Felicity stared in awe at what he was doing. Robbie held his hands over the wound. The green seemed to flow from him to Oliver, passing over and into his body. Robbie kept his eyes closed, concentrating intently. John had never really seen him do something on this scale. Sure, he knew that he could heal wounds and injuries, he’d seen him fix the occasional cut, but this was a serious gunshot. He’d been barely conscious when he’d been shot. Robbie had healed him then, he assumed, the same way he was healing Oliver now. When Oliver had been shot by the copycat archer, John had had to take him to the hospital, making up some excuse about a crashed motorbike. It was mesmerising to watch, and John had no idea how he was doing it. One more mystery about Robbie Gray to add to his list. Eventually, Robbie opened his eyes and stepped back. The wound was still visible, but thankfully was no longer bleeding. Robbie swayed slightly.

“I need to practise that more” he said, putting his head in his hands as though he were light headed.

John helped guide him back to his seat, worried that he’d fall over and hurt himself.

“How did you...?” Felicity started to ask, but she was stopped by John.

“I need your help Felicity.”

He opened a refrigerated drawer and took out a bag of blood, a unit of Oliver’s blood to be more precise.

“Is that?”

“Yes it is. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

“I know. It’s in my car if he wants it back.”

“Maybe not, but we will give him this.”

He directed her around the table, giving him some space to work. She looked like she was going to be sick.

“I don’t think I could have handled being a doctor.”

“Hey,” John said, reaching out a hand to calm her, “he’ll be fine. We’ll look after him.”

Still, even with Robbie’s healing, Oliver was still unconscious. One problem at a time, John thought. It was going to be a long night


	16. Personal War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Between 1x14 and 1x16

They had no idea what hit them. Robbie dropped down from the roof, taking two of the guards by surprise. The third was so stunned that he barely had time to raise his gun before Robbie was on him. In the calm following a takedown, he surveyed his surroundings. There were other people in this building, an old warehouse by the docks, and hopefully. No, no use distracting himself with that possibility. He carefully worked his way around the building. The guards patrolled infrequently. He knew, he’d been watching them for days. For people involved in trafficking, drugs, weapons, people, anything, you’d have thought that their security would be tighter. He completed his circuit, leaving none of the patrolling guards standing. Not one of them had made a sound, which would make his life a lot easier. He climbed up to an open window and let himself in. The inside was a mix of old shipping containers and office buildings. If he had to guess, he would say that it was probably used as the main office for whatever shipping company had owned it. There was a metal walkway on the outer wall, which he was stood on. From his vantage point, he could see the remaining guards. There was a lot more of them than outside. He couldn’t see into the offices, but he guessed that there were more armed men inside. Carefully, he edges around the walkway. The containers were arranged along the outer wall, leaving a large open space in the middle. The offices were all on one wall. The open space was littered with chairs and smaller boxes. The guards all milled around there, chatting amongst themselves. It would be hard to take them out alone. Fortunately, Robbie was never alone.

 

It felt weird, having his mind so divided, but Robbie had learned to get used to it. Now it just felt like a peculiar form of multi-tasking. He jumped down, landing on containers, surrounding the guards. He was silent, moving like a shadow. He shouted out, drawing the attention of all the guards. They panicked slightly, rushing to grab their weapons. This was what Robbie was waiting for, he jumped down behind them. He kicked out, stamping down on the back of the closest guards knee. The guard crumpled down, Robbie striking his head as he fell, rendering him unconscious. The other guards close by turned, confused. Robbie jumped down again, taking the guards from another side. They were in complete disarray, starting to fire wildly, trying to hit Robbie wherever he was. Robbie jumped down from all sides. He moved among the guards. He knocked guns aside, swept out legs, jabbed throats to stop them screaming. It was over quickly. Robbie stood alone, surrounded by the unconscious bodies of the guards. A head poked out of the office doors, but swiftly retreated, he thought he heard something of a scream. He approached cautiously, he was sure that there would be more guards. The door was locked. No matter. He focussed his mind, and then kicked the door. It burst inwards. He darted to the side as gunfire shot out. He’d expected that. He waited, unsure if anybody would come out. Even if nobody did, the waiting would put them on edge, make them scared, more likely to act irrationally. The tip of a gun barrel edged out of the door and Robbie took his chance. He put himself in the doorway and drove the gun up. The shots harmlessly hit the ceiling. The man holding it looked scared as Robbie stared him down. The man tried punching him but Robbie twisted, wrenching the gun out of his other hand and blocking the punch. He hit the man squarely in the stomach, open palmed. For a normal person, this would have hurt, but been ultimately ineffective. Robbie, however, was not a normal person. The man flew across the room, slamming into the wall, and slumped on the floor, unconscious. Robbie properly entered the room. Another man was cowering behind a desk. As Robbie approached, he tried aiming a gun at him, but Robbie snatched it from his hand.

“Charles Mason!”

The man backed as far as he could into the corner.

“Please, don’t hurt me, I’ll give you anything you want” he begged.

Robbie grabbed him and forcibly stood him up.

“I want answers. Starling City is a hub for traffickers. Scum like you move anything they can through the ports. I want to know who is in the business of moving people.”

His voice echoed around the room. It hissed in Mason’s ear like a snake.

“I don’t know what…”

He didn’t get a chance to finish his lie. Robbie threw him onto the desk and held him down.

“Tell me!”

“Please, they’ll kill me if I tell you anything.”

“You shouldn’t fear death. I want to know who they are and where they keep their victims.”

Mason’s eyes were wide. Robbie bent down low, so he could speak directly into his ear.

“If you don’t tell me what I want to know, I will make you beg for something as sweet as death.”

“Ok, I’ll tell you. Rostov, Payne and Munez. They’re the only ones I know.”

“There must be others.”

“Others come and go but they’re the only ones who operate out of Starling.”

“Where are they!?”

“I don’t know.”

Robbie slammed him against the table again.

“I swear I don’t. It’s all part of the business. I stay out of their way, they stay out mine.”

It wasn’t much, but Robbie knew when someone was telling the truth. He focussed again, placing his palm on Mason’s forehead.

“Please, no!” Mason screamed, before he fell silent.

He was only knocked out, like the guards. Robbie left the office and approached the first container. The lock was easily broken and he swung open the heavy iron door. Inside were boxes, he didn’t care what was in them. He went to each box in turn, opening them up and checking their contents. It was only when he opened the last container that he found them. He opened the door and heard hushed noises. As the light of the warehouse entered the container, he saw many people huddled at the far end. He stepped in and they closed in tighter together, as if trying to protect themselves. He didn’t want to scare them any more than they already were. There must have been about fifteen or so young women. Some were white, some black, some Asian. None of them could have been older than mid-twenties. His face twisted at the thought of what was planned for these girls.

“It’s alright, you're safe now” he said to them, his voice softer, gentler, no longer all encompassing.

They still seemed just as scared as before, but Robbie hadn’t expected anything less. He tapped his ear. A small beep told him the communications device was active.

“Hello?” the voice of Felicity Smoak said.

“Call the police; we have women here that need help.”

“On it” she said.

Robbie left the container. He waited, perched on the walkway, looking down on the warehouse, until the police arrived. It had been a successful night, but he couldn’t help but feel disappointed. They weren’t here.

 

Diggle and Felicity were the only ones in the lair when Robbie arrived. Oliver must be out on his own mission. They turned to face him when they heard him.

“Police reports say that fifteen women were rescued from a human trafficking ring. According to responding officers, the armed men were taken out by several assailants, but all agree that it was the Starling City ghost” Felicity said, reading from a tablet she had in her hand, “you have friends who do this with you?”

“No” Robbie replied, “just a cool trick.”

“Did you get anything from them?” Diggle asked, “you seemed adamant about something when you left.”

“Not much, just three names. Rostov, Payne and Munez, according to Mason, they are the only other traffickers active in Starling City.”

Felicity turned to type on her computer. Robbie hadn’t been too keen on Felicity’s involvement at first, but he had to admit, she could use computers. It was also very handy having someone at the base that could get them information and coordinate on the fly. She had also upgraded the computer systems. It made it seem a lot more, well, like a base of operations than a lair.

“That’s not exactly what I meant Robbie” Diggle said.

Robbie looked at him, unsure, wanting an explanation. Even Felicity glanced up from her keyboard.

“I’m just saying that this is the second trafficker you’ve hunted down. You seem a lot more closed off about this than usual and you don’t even want Oliver to know.”

“I assume he does.”

“Of course Robbie. But why haven’t you told him, or us, why you’re doing this?”

“Oliver has mission, I have mine.”

He wasn’t sure why he didn’t just tell them. It would be so easy, they were right there, expecting answers.

“And that mission is?” Diggle asked.

Robbie didn’t say anything.

“Your brothers.”

Robbie hadn’t heard Oliver arrive. He was stood behind him, bow in hand.

“Brothers?” Felicity asked tentatively.

Robbie still said nothing. He looked down at his feet, not wanting to look anyone in the eye.

“Years ago, Robbie’s brothers went missing” Oliver said, explaining to Diggle and Felicity as he moved around to join them.

“And you think they were kidnapped?” Diggle asked.

There was no judgement in that question, only a calm voice wanting information.

“I have no idea” Robbie answered, looking up at the three of them, “I just know that one day they were there and the next they weren’t. It’s the only hope I have.”

“So you’ve been hunting down human traffickers, trying to find anything you can about your brothers.”

Robbie nodded.

“Probably nothing will come of it. I’ll most likely never find them, ever. But still…” Robbie said, his voice tapering off.

Oliver placed his hands gently on his shoulders.

“It drives you. It gives you a reason to be out on those streets every night” he said.

Robbie didn’t have anything to say, so Oliver continued.

“I was lucky. I was reunited with my family. The least I can do is help you find yours.”

Robbie looked at Diggle and Felicity. They both nodded agreement. He couldn’t help but well up. “Thank you.” Whether it was by a cool trick or not, Robbie was glad he didn’t have to be alone.


	17. Interactions and Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x16

Everybody else was out, so Robbie wandered the passageways of the Queen Mansion alone. Oliver had told him to take the night off, that it wouldn’t do for him to get too worked up. How could he not? He had names of his own to cross off. Rostov, Payne and Munez. They’d gone to ground since he’d taken Charles Mason out of the game. Felicity was working on tracking them down, but it would take time. Robbie knew that, but it didn’t make doing nothing any easier. He followed his circuit to the living room for the third time that evening. Oliver was with Tommy, celebrating his birthday with Laurel and his girlfriend. That had been a surprise, especially given how Oliver always said that he would never be able to live that life. It made him happy, and Robbie was glad for him, but he couldn’t help feeling like he was being left out. Thea was also out. Her community service at CNRI kept her busy, and though she would never admit it, Robbie thought that she actually enjoyed it. He had no idea where Moira was. She worked late, he knew that much, but there was still a nagging doubt in his mind. She knew more than she let on, but Oliver refused to go further into it and Robbie didn’t want to board that particular vessel. On the small living room coffee table lay his school work. The tutor came in every morning, bringing him up to speed with his schooling. Robbie put on an eager face, as though he really cared about whatever it was that he was being taught. In reality, he wished he could be anywhere else. Still, the work needed doing, and since he had nothing else to do. He scooped up the small pile of papers and headed for his room. He was passing the entrance when the bell rang. He stopped, confused. They were twenty miles from the city, nobody just dropped by unannounced. He certainly wasn’t expecting anyone. He opened the door cautiously.

“Hello Robbie.”

It was an older man, jet black hair and a sharp suit. His smile was kind, but at the same time uncaring. Robbie knew him. They had met once before.

“Mr Merlyn” he replied.

Malcolm Merlyn was Tommy’s father. Robbie didn’t know much about him. From what little he could gather from Oliver, Malcolm and Tommy didn’t get on, hadn’t since his mother died. He’d seemed nice enough, but Robbie felt uneasy around him. The mannerisms, the way he talked, the smile, all disarming enough to most people but Robbie had learned long ago to notice a mask like that. Oliver wore one very similar to it. He stood aside, opening the door properly, allowing Malcolm to enter the house.

“Is Moira home?” he asked.

“No she isn’t. Sorry.”

“Not to worry. I only hoped to give her an invitation in person.”

Robbie saw that he had a small piece of card in his hand. It looked well made, as the property of the rich tended to be.

“I don’t know when she’ll be back, Mr Merlyn.”

Oh please, call me Malcolm. Any friend of the Queen family is a friend of mine.”

There it was again. The easy friendliness, but Robbie could play this game as well, smiling back at him.

“So she’s left you all alone?” Malcolm asked, “I would have thought, if you won’t mind me saying, that with what you went through, you’d be supervised more.”

Was this a sincere attempt at conversation, or fishing for information? Robbie almost hated that he was asking himself this question.

“I guess Moira feels she can leave me on my own.”

“Doing school work” Malcolm said, gesturing to the papers in Robbie’s hand.

Before Robbie could speak, Malcolm spoke up again.

“Could please give this to Moira when she comes home, along with my regards?”

He held out the invitation.

“Of course” Robbie replied, taking it from him.

Malcolm smiled, thanked him and saw himself from the house, leaving Robbie alone again.

 

The building was huge, extravagant, everything a multi-billionaire like Merlyn would have in a building. Oliver was taking no chances. He’d intercepted an assassin who was sent to kill Merlyn, someone hired by the Triad. Oliver had dealt with the Triad before and they did not give up easily. Robbie was surrounded by rich people in fancy clothes. Robbie had taken a disguise of one of the waiting staff. He had eyes on Moira. When he had told Oliver that Moira would be there, he had been tasked with keeping her safe, whatever happened. His head was on a swivel. Several of the wait staff were Chinese, but whether they were Triad Robbie did not know. He was keeping a particular eye out for Chien Na Wei. From what Oliver told him, she was a mercenary of the Triad, who was probably the one orchestrating the whole thing. Fortunately for him, she had bright white hair, so should be easy to spot. The lights went out, an alarm sounded. It was happening now. Everybody made their way to the exits. Robbie followed, allowing himself to be swept along with the crowd, keeping up with Moira. Once he was outside he got his bearings. Merlyn was still inside. The whine of sirens filled the air as police cars pulled up. Several officers, led by Oliver’s girlfriend McKenna Hall, entered the building. Robbie slipped down the side of the building and pressed his com unit in his ear.

“Moira’s outside and safe, but the police are already here” he reported.

There were a few moments of silence before Oliver spoke up on the other end.

“Stay out of sight and stay close.”

The darkened side street provided the perfect cover as he dropped his disguise, donning his outfit. He didn’t know what Oliver wanted him to wait for. He guessed that he would know it when he saw it. Sure enough, there was a loud bang at penthouse suite. The people gathered in front of the building screamed and gasped. Oliver needn’t have said anything. Robbie knew this was his cue.

 

“Dad!”

He was heavy, but Tommy was running on adrenaline and felt like he could lift a horse. He pulled his father away from the window. It had all happened so fast. His dad had sealed them in the penthouse when the window had been blown away. There was a massive circular hole where whatever it was had impacted. Malcolm had gone to investigate but had been shot. It was like some weird movie he was in. He fumbled with his father’s bow tie, apologising as he did so. If only he had followed through with that whim of becoming a doctor. Malcolm groaned.

“I’m ok.”

How could he be ok? He’d been shot! Malcolm opened his shirt, revealing a bullet proof vest. Three bullets were embedded in it. Tommy almost laughed in relief but his hands came away from his father’s shirt wet with blood. One of the bullets had hit a weak point in the vest.

“No, you’re bleeding.”

He didn’t know what to do. The people on TV would always try and put pressure on a wound to stop bleeding, but how on earth did you do that through Kevlar?

“I’ll be fine, I’ll…” his father said.

Malcolm passed out before he could finish. Tommy’s mind raced. Surely he hadn’t bled that much, that made people pass out, right?

“DAD!” he called out, hoping to somehow bring him back.

Broken glass shifted behind him. Somebody was in the room with them. He whipped around and saw two figures. One was larger, more physically imposing, with a hood and bow. The other was smaller with a black eye mask. They both kept their heads down, avoiding looking directly at him. The vigilantes, the hood and the ghost. Tommy scrambled for a gun, the one his father had taken from the guys who’d cornered them on the way up the building. He aimed it at the hood.

“Don’t come any closer!”

The hood raised a hand, keeping his bow and head down.

“We’re not here to hurt you or your father” he said, his voice deep, like it was going through a filter.

The ghost approached despite his warning. He froze when Tommy turned the gun on him.

“He’s bleeding, I can help him” he said.

His voice was whispery but felt like it was coming from everywhere.

“I said stay back” Tommy said.

Could this masked boy help his father? Tommy didn’t want to find out. He knew what these vigilantes were capable of, what they did to people like his father.

“It’s curare.”

The hood had bent low and inspected a bullet.

“If it’s poison, then there’s little I can do” the ghost said to him.

“Go tell the police” the hood ordered.

The ghost moved passed Tommy, completely ignoring the gun, and out the door.

“Your father’s been poisoned. The sniper who shot him laces his bullets with curare, I’ve dealt with this before” the hood said, inching closer as he spoke, “we need to dilute the poison before it kills him.”

“I said stay back!” Tommy commanded, hoping he kept the fear from his voice.

In every story he’d heard of these vigilantes, guns didn’t scare them. Many people with guns had tried to fight them, only to end up in the hospital or worse. He’d never fired a gun in his life, what chance did he have if the hood struck.

“If I don’t help him, he’s dead before anyone gets here.”

There was a subtle urgency to his voice. Tommy wanted to drop the gun and let him, but no. This was the vigilante, why should he?

“He needs your blood, now!” the hood said, more urgently.

“Why should I trust you?” Tommy demanded.

The hood seemed to sigh. He reached to the base of his hood and Tommy was sure he heard a button being pressed. The hood turned to face him, Tommy raised the gun defensively, but the hood made no move to attack. Instead, he reached up a hand and lowered his hood. Tommy’s breath caught in his mouth. There was grease paint obscuring his face but he was unmistakable, at least to Tommy.

“Because you always have” his best friend, Oliver Queen, said to him.


	18. Feel Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x18

Oliver had been unnaturally calm these past few weeks. Tommy knew about Oliver, they had talked about it somewhat, but Robbie didn’t know where they stood. Robbie wanted to leave them to it, let them sort it out themselves, they are adults after all. The streets of the Glades were fairly empty, but maybe that was because he was in a better part of the area. The streets of Starling City were calming to Robbie. The idea that people were going about their lives, completely untouched by the weird life that he was living, put things into perspective. It also reminded him what he was fighting for. His wandering gradually took him from the Glades.

“Robbie” a voice called.

He looked around. He was outside CNRI, Laurel was leaving the building. Robbie greeted her warmly.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him.

“Just needed to clear my head.”

Laurel nodded.

“Where are you headed?” he asked her.

“Just going to get some lunch, care to join me?”

“Sure.”

They set off together. Robbie liked Laurel. She was very determined with a strong will. He remembered how he hadn’t thought too much of her, how he thought she distracted Oliver from his goals. She certainly had her own goals, some of which aligned with Oliver; however she was not a distraction, merely another player in this game they all played.

“What are you thinking about?” Laurel asked him.

“Nothing really.”

“And yet, you’re wandering about, clearing your head.”

Robbie grinned.

“Nothing in particular. I just need to get away from that house from time to time.”

“I guess it would be a bit much.”

They were silent for a bit, before Laurel spoke again.

“I hope you don’t mind, but Oliver said that you, well, you weren’t exactly rich before.”

“No, absolutely not,” he replied, gesturing to the buildings around them, “this is more my background.”

“Was it a shock, moving in with the Queen’s?”

“Oh yes.”

“How did you move past it?”

Robbie stopped, making Laurel stop as well. Where was she going with this? He studied her face briefly. She wasn’t asking for genuine interest in him, but for something in her own life. When she saw him looking at her, she immediately looked apologetic.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be so nosy” she babbled out, trying to apologise.

“It’s alright” he reassured her, “Laurel, what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something’s up with you, what is it?”

Laurel paused for a moment.

“My mom’s back” she said.

Robbie thought that that should be a good thing, but Laurel, clearly, didn’t see it that way. He gestured for her to continue.

“She came back into my life after so many years. She had this crazy idea that Sara was still alive."

She snorted, shaking her head.

“I didn’t want to believe her, Dad didn’t either, but she’s pulled him in and now he truly believes that she’s out there somewhere.”

“And you don’t believe it, or you don’t want to?” Robbie asked, tentatively.

“Five years ago, I would have. I would have given anything to bring Sara back to us. But now, I just want to get on with my life. But I can’t, and Dad can’t either.”

Robbie understood. The shadow of what happened to Sara hung over Oliver whenever Laurel was mentioned, though he never said a word about it. When he had come home, that shadow had plagued every interaction between him and the Lance’s. Even now, he didn’t tell Robbie, or Diggle, or Felicity, what exactly had happened to Sara. Of course being brought back into that would hurt Laurel.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to dump all of that on you” Laurel said, apologetic again.

“It’s alright.”

He placed a reassuring hand on her arm.

“What are you going to do?” he asked her.

“I don’t know. I just don’t want my dad to get hurt even more than he already is.”

“Then try and help them both, as gently as you can.”

Laurel smiled.

“I see why you and Oliver are friends.”

“Believe me, you’re much better at listening than Oliver is.”

She chuckled at that. “Thank you Robbie.”

 

The atmosphere in the warehouse was different than usual. Felicity was busy at the computer, Oliver was pacing and Diggle was leant against a table. None of them reacted to him approaching them.

“I assume something’s not right” he said to nobody in particular.

“John Nickel’s dead” Diggle told him.

“And that’s bad?” Robbie said confused, thinking of all the times that Oliver had killed people.

“I wasn’t the one to do it” Oliver said, still pacing.

“Some guy kidnapped Nickel and then killed him, broadcasting it live to the whole city” Felicity said, not looking away from her computer.

“And he said Nickel was only the first” Oliver finished.

“Ok, definitely bad” Robbie said.

Silence fell, only punctuated by Felicity’s furious typing. Diggle’s phone buzzed and he left to answer it. Robbie didn’t like this kind of waiting. It certainly wasn’t helped by Oliver’s pacing. They were all thinking the same thing. Whoever this was, he wasn’t going to stop, he would kill again and they needed to stop him. The only problem was finding him. Felicity slammed the keyboard away from her and let out a very frustrated groan.

“I can’t get into this guy’s code” she said, her voice sounding like she was forcing it to be level.

“I may be able to help a little” Diggle said, returning to the three of them.

“Oh yes please, anything would be better than what I’ve got. Which is nothing” Felicity said.

“A federal agent I know has also been looking into this. He’s says the code this guy is using matches code used by someone called ‘The Savior’. Apparently, he’s a former resident of the Glades. I know it’s not much.”

“But it’s something at least” Felicity said, slowly spinning her chair around to face the computers again.

 

The computers pinged. A new window opened, showing a transmission from the Savior. John and Robbie gathered with Felicity by the computer. A new victim was strapped up, looking terrified.

“We’re back.”

Felicity began typing furiously, panels of code running on every other available space on screen.

“I have district attorney Gavin Carnaghan.”

The restrained man tried speaking, but his mouth was taped shut.

“Attorneys are supposed to go after bad guys, but this one can’t be bothered to even bring them to trial.”

John, Oliver and Robbie shifted uncomfortably, not trying to distract Felicity. The sense of urgency was palpable. It made for very intense viewing. From the hints and clues the Savior was saying, Felicity pulled up details. How she could multi-task like this on a computer was beyond John, who instead paid attention to the information she’d mined.

“Emma Falk, grieving husband is Joseph Falk” Oliver said, reading aloud.

“Do we have anything on him?” Robbie asked.

Again multitasking, Felicity pulled up more information.

“There isn’t much” she said before resuming her digging.

“Former city worker, department of transportation, computer technician, left his job when his wife was killed” Robbie read out.

“No credit card, no current address” John finished.

He certainly seemed like the kind of guy who could pull this off, John thought. He’d be almost untraceable. Thankfully, he’d learned that that wasn’t always the case.

“Gavin, you’re a lawyer. You’re used to making a case, so go ahead. I’m going to give you ten minutes, deliver the closing argument of your life.”

The Savior’s words, Joseph Falk’s words, sent a chill down his spine. This is sick, John thought. Falk laid the camera down, placing a watch in front of it. They could all tell that Felicity was working as fast as she could, but it didn’t make it any better for them. They didn’t have much time. The minutes seemed to pass like hours, minutes that Gavin Carnaghan didn’t have.

“I got him!” Felicity said eventually.

Oliver was at her side, but before he could say anything, Felicity spoke.

“Before you say it, I can’t shut down his broadcast, yet at least, but I do have a location, 23rd and Myra.”

Oliver said nothing, instead bolted from the room, taking his helmet as he left.

“Is he not going to hood up?” John asked.

“It’s the middle of the day, so no” Robbie answered.

 

Oliver’s tracking signal showed that he was closing in on Falk’s location.

“How’s Carnaghan?” he asked over the radio.

“You’d think for a lawyer he’d be better at arguing” Robbie said, his tone not at all light hearted.

Oliver’s dot arrived at the building. John imagined what he was doing now. Probably kicking every door down, inspecting every room. But would it be enough. Robbie left the computer console and knelt down in the middle of the room.

“What are you doing?” John asked him.

“That’s a large building, he needs to know exactly where Falk has Carnaghan” he replied.

“And what, you think meditation’s going to help?” Felicity asked.

“Some emotions stand out like a Christmas tree, more than enough for me to find.”

“Like being close to being killed?”

“Exactly. I just need to focus on the right one.”

He closed his eyes. John didn’t know exactly what he was doing. Robbie was still a mystery to him, but if he could find Carnaghan this way, John was all for it.

“He’s not here Felicity!” Oliver said on the comms.

“What?”

“I searched everywhere. He’s not here!”

Felicity looked dumbfounded. John couldn’t blame her. How could Carnaghan not be there? That was where the signal had traced back to. Felicity typed a command into the computer. The trace moved, now showing a new location.

“What? How is this possible? He moved, just north of you, Ocean and Grant” she said, slowly regaining some composure.

“On my way!” Oliver said before signing off.

What exactly he meant John wasn’t sure. His attention was drawn to Robbie. His breath had turned quick and shallow, whereas before it was slow and deep.

“I only took on cases that I thought I could…”

“Win.”

“I’m sorry.”

Carnaghan didn’t have much time left. Hurry Oliver, John thought, hurry.

“He’s scared, he’s so so scared.”

Robbie was rocking back and forth. He shook his head every now and again.

“Gavin Carnaghan, I find you guilty of crimes against the Glades.”

“Don’t do this!” both Carnaghan and Robbie shouted.

Tears were streaming from Robbie’s closed eyes. His breathing was rapid.

“I’m at Ocean and Grant, but it’s just an empty lot” Oliver said.

John paid him no mind. His attention was torn between the broadcast and Robbie.

“I sentence you to death.”

“No, no!” Robbie cried out.

They didn’t hear Carnaghan over the sound of gunshots. Robbie convulsed on the floor, doubling over as though he was in great pain. John rushed to his side. He lifted up his face to get a better look. Robbie’s eyes shot open and his breathing calmed down. He was holding his chest, where Carnaghan had been shot.

“Felicity, talk to me!” Oliver demanded.

She didn’t say anything. She took her earpiece off and rushed out of the room, her face mixed with emotions. John still had his earpiece in, so he reported to Oliver.

“It’s over. Callaghan’s dead.”

 

Oliver returned shortly afterwards. Felicity had her back to them, leaning against the table with Oliver’s arrows, playing with one of the arrow heads. Robbie was sat on the floor down at the side of the computer table, his head in his hands. John was sat on a chair between them. He didn’t know what to say to either of them. Felicity was a civilian. Likely she’d never seen someone die right in front of her, so of course this would hit her hard. John had seen people killed and killed people. It hurt, but his experience let him brush it off, move forward to the next mission. How could he put that into words for some experiencing it all for the first time? Then there was Robbie. Robbie was no stranger to violence. Yet it seemed like he had actually felt Carnaghan dying, actually felt the bullets as he was shot. Everything about Robbie was so alien to John that he had no words that he could think of that would make things better. The sounds of Oliver’s approaching footsteps snapped him out of his contemplation. He surveyed the room, taking in each of them. When his eyes passed over John, he shook his head just a little, a small gesture to show the mood of the rest of the team. Oliver went to Felicity. It was as John had thought.

“I’ve never seen someone die, at least not like that. There was Nickel, yeah. But somehow that one felt so much more real.”

“How so?” Oliver asked her.

She turned and glanced over her shoulder. Robbie still had his head in his hands.

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter. It’s my fault anyway. I gave you the bogus location. I don’t know how you do this.”

Oliver took her hand reassuringly.

“This is the thing with what we do. We don’t always win, sometimes we lose.”

“I don’t know how you stand it, not telling anyone. Maybe it is better to be alone.”

Oliver said nothing. John didn’t know if he had any answer to give. He rounded the table, his eye set on Robbie. Robbie got up, his arms wrapped around his waist. He was still crying. Oliver placed his hands on his shoulders, making Robbie look at him.

“What happened?” Robbie turned away.

“You needed to know where Carnaghan was. I thought I could help. I reached out, I found him, I.”

He choked out the words.

“I felt him die. Oliver, he was so scared. He was moving, he didn’t know where he was, and he died.”

Felicity turned around. All eyes were on Robbie.

“He was at 23rd and Myra. He was at Ocean and Grant. I don’t know how he got to those places, but it wasn’t bogus.”

Typical Robbie. Even when he was in pain, he wanted to help Felicity with her guilt. He rubbed his chest, as though running his hands over wounds. Silence fell over the team once again.

 

All hands were to battle stations. The Savior had struck again, this time taking Thea’s friend Roy. Felicity was analysing the footage from the other broadcasts.

“There’s something in the background. I’ve isolated it, but I can’t tell what it is.”

John listened into a pair of headphones. This sound, this rhythm, why did it seem so familiar to him?

“Why does that sound like a train?” Robbie asked.

He’d also been listening to it intensely. John looked over at him. He’d mostly recovered from what happened earlier. John had given him a once over, just to prove that he hadn’t actually been shot. That had seemed to let him move past it. It was strange. The way he acted was just like back in Afghanistan. He’d seen soldiers recovering from wounds like that. Yet Robbie hadn’t been shot, it only felt like he had. Any pain he was still feeling was psychological, something John couldn’t help him with.

“A train, or a car, something moving” Oliver mused.

Wait, a train. He remembered something.

“I know it” John whispered to himself.

Oliver heard him, stopping what he was saying. John didn’t pay him any mind.

“Felicity could you show me where we’ve seen the signal and where people were abducted, please?” he asked.

She did so. The pieces connected in his mind.

“Those are all subway stops” he said, sure of it.

“But Starling doesn’t have a subway” Oliver said, somewhat frustrated.

“No but it used to. I remember being taken to games by my dad. For fourteen minutes I’d listen to the rhythm of the train moving.”

“Then that’s how he did it. He was at all of the places I traced the signal to, he was just on a train underground” Felicity said.

“He used to work for the department of transportation, so he would know where all of the stops are” Robbie added.

It all fit. Now they just needed to find Roy.

“Where is he now?” Oliver said, preparing to suit up.

“He’s on the old Cross Town line” Felicity said, but they were interrupted by the broadcast.

“I’ll give you ten minutes to state your case Roy.”

The teens bruised face was in the camera. He looked scared, but he didn’t beg like Carnaghan did. John didn’t know what that meant. Whatever it was, he was sure he didn’t like it.

“You’re not going to get to him in time” John said.

“He can” Robbie said.

He’d also suited up, somehow, and now stood in the centre of the room. John raised an eyebrow, confused.

“Felicity can tell me where he is, I can focus in on him and get Oliver there in a flash” he said.

“Are you sure? The last time you tried that you felt like you were shot” John said, concerned.

“We don’t have time, Roy doesn’t have time. I have to” Robbie said.

Oliver stood beside John and nodded his approval. Robbie closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Felicity called out his location and Robbie started muttering. John could just about make it out.

“Come on. Come one Roy.”

The waiting was tense. The broadcast certainly didn’t help.

“Why do you get to live?”

“I don’t” Roy said.

John looked back at the screen. The teen looked at the camera. Carnaghan had been screaming, begging for his life, but Roy. He looked ashamed, guilty almost, like he didn’t deserve to live.

“It’s not working” Robbie called out, not paying attention to the broadcast, “I can’t find him.”

John had an epiphany.

“That’s because you’re looking for the wrong thing.”

He turned to face Robbie. His eyes were still close and his head kept turning, like he was trying to listen for something.

“With Carnaghan you were looking for fear, the terror of staring down the barrel of a gun, but that’s not Roy. He’s lived in the Glades his whole life, done who knows what to get by. He’s ashamed of what he’s done and is fully resigned to his fate. I don’t know how you do it, but if you can, look for resignation, look for acceptance.”

Robbie’s head stopped swivelling, like a predator zeroing in on a target.

“Just do it” Roy said.

A brief smile flashed across Robbie’s face.

“I’ve got him.”

Oliver moved to stand by his side. Robbie gripped his shoulder and elbow tightly.

“Wait, what exactly is this going to feel like?” Oliver asked.

“Brace yourself.”

That was all Robbie said to answer him. The lights flickered. There was a brief flash of darkness and they were both gone. The last John saw of them, it looked like they were falling.

 

“Nobody’s going to miss me.”

Roy choked out those words despite the pain it caused him to admit it. He was as Thea had told him earlier that day, a waste. What good was he to the world? He’d grown up in the Glades, surrounded by a whole group of people going nowhere in life. His life had been rough; there had been no hope of anything better. Each day had been a case study of survival, making it in a world where no one gives a damn.

“I deserve it.”

The train car rocked gently. If this was where he was going to die, then so be it. It was a fitting end. Being shot by someone proclaiming to be a vigilante punishing him for his wrongdoings, what other end could he have? The man raised his gun and his camera. He’d seen guns before, he’d seen people getting shot, even been shot at himself, before. It didn’t help him. He couldn’t help but be afraid. The lights in the car flickered ominously. The man lowered the gun and looked around, dropping the camera. The man was nervous. Roy only knew of two people like him this nervous. The lights went out briefly, plunging the train into darkness for just a second. There was movement as the lights returned. Both vigilantes, the hood and the ghost, were in the car, between him and the man. It looked like they had fallen in, but from where Roy didn’t know. The ghost slumped onto the seats, looking exhausted, while the hood whipped around. He threw something up near Roy’s hand before drawing an arrow and aiming it at the man.

“Let the kid go!”

The hood’s voice was full of menace. The man’s attention was fully on him, even though it was two v one. Roy looked at the ghost. He was panting on the seats, as if he’d just overexerted himself. He caught Roy’s eye and motioned his head, directing Roy to look at what the hood had thrown him. It was a miniature arrow, and it was within his reach.

“If you kill him, he’ll never get the chance to change!”

Roy reached out, stretching to grab the arrow, hoping that the hood was keeping the man distracted.

“He can’t change. He’s just like the people who killed Emma.”

“Would he have wanted you to kill him if he was just like them?”

The hood’s voice went low, still carrying menace.

“He deserves it. He said so himself. How is that any different to the people you’ve killed? We’re the only ones who can save this city. I don’t want anyone else to feel this loneliness”

“You were so focussed on what happened to Emma that you forgot that you were still alive. You wanted others to feel your pain, because that was all you had left. The loneliness, the despair, but that’s not all that life is. I understand that, I’ve felt it too, but it does not give you the right to kill people in cold blood.”

Roy managed to get the arrow and cut his arms free from the tape. The hood was keeping the man distracted. Roy hoped he would talk him down, but he knew, deep down, how this was all going to end.

“They gunned her down, and now I’m going to gun him down.”

“Don’t do it!”

The man turned, raising his gun. Roy ducked for cover but there was nowhere to hide. Suddenly the ghost was between them, he hadn’t seen him move. He reached out a hand as though to catch the bullet. There was a small shower of sparks where the bullet hit and nothing else. The hood let the arrow loose, striking the man in back. The gun fell to the floor. The motion of the train pushed the man onto a seat. It was almost peaceful, like he was travelling somewhere, perfectly normal. The ghost was on the floor, pushing himself back to his feet. Roy manoeuvred to another seat, opposite the man. The hood and ghost stood to his left and right.

“I don’t know what…” he tried to speak, but the words caught in his mouth.

The hood said nothing.

“I don’t…” he tried again, still failing.

Whatever he was going to say, it wasn’t enough. He could never say enough, do enough after tonight. After tonight, he had changed.


	19. A Past Full of Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Between 1x18 and 1x21

Daily life is supposed to be normal. However, what most people would consider normal was most definitely not what Robbie would consider normal. How on earth was he supposed to complete this assignment? He never usually gave much attention to his tutor’s work. He could usually rattle it off without much effort; after all it was mostly catch-up work. Why this in particular rattled him, he wasn’t entirely sure. All he had to do was write a short piece on a normal day in his life. He had no problems with lying about this sort of thing; he lied every day to Moira and Thea about what he does. There was still something, something about putting it on paper, which made it seem somehow more real to Robbie. Like his lies would be forever engraved, if only on a piece of paper or a computer screen. He didn’t like that. He didn’t know what to think about it. And what did he do when he didn’t know what to think, go for a walk. He pounded the pavement, trying to think of a way of wording his life that wouldn’t a complete fabrication. In other words, write about his life before. He shook his head. Traffic bustled alongside him, the streets singing with the sounds of urban life. He may as well be a completely different person now; his old life may as well have been centuries ago, his memories of it like remembering a book about someone else.

 

_“We’re doing everything we can to find them.”_

_Robbie listened intently from his bedroom. He could hear his parents crying. The other people left and they still were crying. He didn’t dare go downstairs. The house felt so empty. The days passed by like a blur and everything seemed so much colder. It may have been the down feeling throughout the house, or maybe because the house was actually cold. His breath misted in front of his face. Mum and dad were out on the streets, searching, asking questions to anyone who would stop and listen. Robbie was alone at home, wondering if he would be allowed to put the heating on for a bit. The police had eventually stopped calling. There was no nothing left for them to go on. Mum and dad hadn’t wanted to believe it, Robbie didn’t either. They would continue searching, regardless of anything else. The door opened. Robbie hurried down the stairs. His parents didn’t say anything; they didn’t even look at him. Mum passed him on the stairs, dad sat down in the living room. Robbie didn’t know what to do, a feeling so often felt in this house._

_“Dad?”_

_No response._

_“Dad. Can we put the heating on? I’m cold” he asked._

_He said nothing. Robbie found the little panel on the wall and turned the dial. He hoped to hear the sounds of hot water in the pipes, but there was nothing. The house was as silent as it had been before. He didn’t understand. Dad hadn’t even looked up from his chair. He left him alone, going back upstairs to his room. At the top of the stairs, he looked down the hall to his brother’s room. His mother was sat on a pile of cushions in the middle of the room, holding one of Jay’s toys. He stood at the door._

_“Mum?”_

_She didn’t say anything. He wanted to scream. He knew that his parents were in pain. He knew that they were being torn up over what happened. He knew, he understood, but didn’t they know that he was hurting too, that he needed them as well?_

 

The memories came completely unwelcomed. The rest of the house was quiet, just as it had been before. This time was completely different. The house was quiet because it was late at night. It wasn’t empty; it was full, or at least as full as a small family could fill a mansion. It wasn’t cold; it was warm, both in temperature and in atmosphere. He liked it. His room no longer felt like a guest room. He didn’t own much, that wasn’t who he was, but it felt more personal. What belongings he had were in their place, it now looked like somebody lived there full time. Thea said his room was bare. It needed more stuff in it and said she’d take him out shopping to get it. Robbie had respectfully refused. Even before, he’d hated shopping. The clock read 11:20pm. Oliver had told him to take the evening off, to go home and get some rest. Robbie had said he needed the rest more than he did, but he knew better than to push the issue too much. The only light in the room came from a lamp at his bedside as he changed into his sleepwear. It was simple, it was plain, it was just the clothes he wore to bed. A large T-shirt, soft cotton shorts, nice and comfortable. The bedding was also soft; it felt like he was sleeping on a marshmallow. It felt good after years of the cold hard floor. He drifted slowly to sleep. He never slept deeply, but enough to feel rested. He hoped he wouldn’t dream. He never liked his dreams. They never boded well. He always woke from them feeling worse.

 

_They say that in films that when characters feel sad it often rains, as a way of getting across emotion to the audience. The real world isn’t that way. It doesn’t always rain at a funeral. When it doesn’t, it’s the person smiling down on them from beyond the grave. When it does, it’s reflecting what people feel. When they laid her to rest shrouded in grey mist, Robbie couldn’t think beyond the fog of his own mind. She had refused to eat, she had refused to sleep. Nothing Robbie said could make her look after herself. Dad certainly didn’t help her. He only snapped out of his own stupor when she had deteriorated to the point of no return. A broken heart, lost the will to live, these were the reasons thrown around. Robbie wanted to understand, but he couldn’t help but feel abandoned. His father still said nothing. When her coffin was lowered into the ground, he simply watched and walked away without a word. There was no wake. Whatever guests had attended left as well. Their words were kind, full of live and understanding, but all empty in his ears. The walk alone from the graveyard was almost unbearable. He thought ahead. What was left for him? An empty house, cold and damp, an unresponsive father, nobody left to care. Something broke. The tears he’d been fighting spilled out and didn’t stop. He ran, he didn’t know where, he didn’t care. The streets twisted in front of him, looming out of the mist. The few people didn’t respond to him. He was just another stranger on the street. He didn’t look like he’d been to funeral; he was just wearing the darkest clothes he still owned. The sounds of waves echoed around the fog. A fence rose starkly in front of him. He climbed over, walking over the grassy rises to the cliff edges. On the coast the mist was thicker than inland. All around him was his life, without direction, without a guide. Everything he had he’d lost. His brothers, his home, now his mother, in any real sense his father as well. What did he have left? Nothing._

_“We can help you.”_

_There was a voice in the mist. He looked around but found no-one. It sounded like it was right in front of him, but he knew that there was nothing but a cliff edge._

_“We can help you.”_

_Was he going mad? Had he broken so completely he was now hearing voices?_

_“Who are you?” he called out, hoping somebody would come to him and explain themselves._

_“We can help you.”_

_“How?”_

_“Take the step.”_

_That was all they said. What did he have to lose? He lifted his foot and reached it out, finding nothing but air._

_“There’s nothing there” he said to himself._

_“Take the step. You will be free.”_

_He had nothing left, but he still didn’t want to die. He reached his foot out again, once more finding nothing but air. He steeled himself. He had nothing to lose. He was scared, but more so of what his life would be if he didn’t do anything. He’d probably be joining his mother soon. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and stepped forward. The air rushed up to meet him as he fell, but nothing solid came. He opened his eyes. He was falling through a column in the mist, which was orange and black, like it was burning. There were voices all around him, speaking to him, speaking about him. From the mist, a woman approached, shrouded in darkness, eyes bright with fire. He screwed his eyes shut, slapped his hands over his ears. Everything scared him. Was he dead?_

_“I wouldn’t touch that.”_

_The voice was young._

_“We can help you get what you want.”_

_The voice was old menacing. Several sharp pains ran through his body as gunshots rang around him._

_“Who are you?”_

_The voice was low and rough. He felt the air move around him like wind and he landed on something. He sprawled forward on his hands and knees. He opened his eyes and saw carved stone beneath him. He could still hear the voices, but they were fading._

_“You’re not going to stop, are you?”_

 

He woke with a start, drenched in sweat. His bed was still here, the room was still the same. He wasn’t falling. At least, not anymore. It didn’t matter, he hated his dreams. They never boded well.


	20. Recovered Steel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x21

The night had gone well or at least as well as could be expected. He’d found a potential lead on one of the traffickers, and now Robbie was back in the base. Felicity was there as well, eyeing him with concern as he nursed a particularly nasty cut to his arm. He’d let his guard down for just a second, hadn’t seen the knife, but no matter. He ran his hand over the cut, basking it in the soft green light as he focussed on healing it. The skin resealed, the pain was subsiding, slowly. It was harder to heal himself than other people. Focus was key, something that was difficult when in pain. Nevertheless he had had plenty of practice and was now back to normality.

“How on earth do you do that?” Felicity asked nervously, handing him a cloth.

Robbie paused, thinking how best to explain it when Oliver approached. He’d been out clearing his head the only way he knew how: crossing one more name off his list. So overall, the night had been successful. He was carrying a laptop.

“Are you taking souvenirs now?” Robbie asked playfully.

Oliver gave him a look before handing it to Felicity.

“It’s Harold Backman’s. Anybody in Starling City who wants to launder money goes through him.”

“Shouldn’t we turn this over then?” Felicity asked, connecting the machine to her computers.

“We will, once you’ve returned the money to its rightful owners.”

“Nice idea in theory, in practise a little less so, the encryption on Backman’s files is insane.”

“Can you break into it?” Oliver asked her.

“Yeah, if I had a few days.”

“Better get started then.”

Oliver turned away and went to stow his gear. Felicity caught Robbie’s eye, a silent conversation between the two, asking who would bring up the obvious. Oliver wasn’t even going to address it, Robbie knew, without prompting. Felicity turned her attention to the laptop, very obviously telling Robbie to get on with it.

“Now that you’ve put away your chosen weapon, can I ask” Robbie said, choosing his words carefully, “when are you going to make peace with Diggle?”

Oliver paused. He looked at Felicity who quickly resumed typing, foiled in her not so subtle attempt at listening in.

“He’s the one who left Robbie. I did what I could to stop him.”

“Except apologise” Felicity said, working on the laptop so Oliver couldn’t stop her.

“You promised you’d help him track down Deadshot, and you…” Robbie tried to say, but Oliver cut him off.

“I made a choice, one I can live with. If Diggle can’t live with that then I don’t need him.”

“I think you do” Robbie said.

“I’m needed at the club” Oliver said, holding up a hand to show this was final.

He turned and left them. Robbie looked at Felicity, whose face said what he was thinking. That hadn’t gone as well as either of them had hoped.

 

“I know Oliver’s stubborn, but my god” Felicity said, hitting the keys harder than she should.

“I know I can take a punch, but I don’t think the keyboard can” Robbie replied.

Felicity stopped and let out a deep sigh. She needed to calm down.

“Doesn’t it bother you? I mean, it could be fixed so easily if they just talked things through.”

Now it was Robbie who sighed.

“It could, but then again, Oliver isn’t the best at the whole talking thing.”

Data was being shuffled about on her screens. All of Backman’s transactions were being sorted automatically. She watched over it with a keen eye. Anything amiss in the numbers she would see. Robbie was sat in the middle of the room, his breaths steady. He was meditating, or that was what she thought he was doing. She didn’t really know and she didn’t think anyone else besides him did either.

“I’ve asked Oliver but he hasn’t said anything, so I’ll ask you. How did you two meet?”

“On Lian Yu” he replied, short and to the point.

“Yeah but how did you meet? Because I do not buy that he had a boat accident and you had a plane accident, that’s far too coincidental. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Not everything has to. I certainly think what you do doesn’t make sense.”

“Yeah but what I do is based on stuff you can learn from a text book. What you do…?"

She didn’t know how to finish her thought. The printer pinged, and she picked up the bundle of papers. Robbie got up from the floor and joined her at the desk, sitting beside her. He also had a sharp eye, so she passed him some of the papers to read through. She wasn’t sure what they were looking for, but her years in cybersecurity had taught her that she would know it when she saw it.

“Anything?” he asked her.

“Nothing too out of the ordinary. Lots of money going to and from different accounts, pretty much all of them going to the Cayman’s. What about you?”

“Same here.”

“Wait, what’s that?” she said, pointing to something on the sheet he was holding.

Something about it had caught her attention, she didn’t know why yet. Robbie looked at where she was pointing but was equally confused.

“2 million dollars going to an offshore account, what’s so special about it?”

It then hit her.

“Look at the date.”

“12th of December. Wait, that’s when…”

“Walter went missing.”

“You don’t think…”

“…that one of Backman’s clients was paid to kidnap him, yes I do.”

“But Felicity, I’ve been hitting professional kidnappers for months now, and haven’t seen or heard anything. I even started asking about it when Walter disappeared.”

“Maybe whoever it was has already left. Like Mason told you, criminals come and go from Starling all the time. Maybe whoever kidnapped Walter came specifically to do that and then left. Or maybe it’s just a coincidence, because like you said, not everything has to make sense.”

Robbie thought for a moment.

“But that doesn’t mean that nothing does, and this is the best lead we’ve had since December.”

Robbie took out his phone and dialled, calling Oliver. Felicity hoped that this small amount of good news would make him more amenable. But then again, maybe it wouldn’t.

 

“So I need to get caught counting cards in an underground casino, filled with hardened criminals.”

It sounded so simple when she said it out loud but did nothing to alleviate her fear. This was ridiculous, what was she doing here? This time last year she was just an IT girl, fixing computers, generally keeping out of people’s way. But then, this time last year her boss hadn’t been kidnapped, there hadn’t been a vigilante or two in Starling, she hadn’t met said vigilantes, she hadn’t helped them because she wanted to find her not missing boss and definitely hadn’t stayed because she actually enjoyed helping people with them. No, no, what was she doing here? Oliver gripped her arm reassuringly.

“All so you can get a bug onto Alonzo’s computer when he gives you a friendly warning” he said.

Again, it sounded so simple when said aloud.

“Right, assuming they know about the whole friendly warning thing and don’t go straight to the shooty thing.”

“Hey, that’s why Robbie’s going in with you, just in case.”

Robbie nodded from her other side. It was weird to look at him. They’d discussed this back at the base. Felicity had made her case for going in. Neither Oliver nor Robbie knew how to count cards. Oliver in particular would never even get inside. Oliver had tried to talk her out of it, but Felicity didn’t relent. She had joined him to find Walter and if bugging Alonzo’s computer helped in any way towards that, then she was up for it. Maybe. If she didn’t think about it too much. They had all agreed that Robbie would go in with her just in case things went out of hand. Now they were all stood ready to go in. Robbie had donned what he called a disguise. It certainly was that, she’d thought. It was like he’d pulled shards of glass out of thin air and made them into a body around him. He looked like he could be her dad, he even sounded different. It was all a little bit much for her. Again, she just needed to not think about it too much, which was difficult because she really wanted to know how it worked.

“If anything happens, I’ll be right outside” Oliver said, bringing her back to focus.

And so Felicity found herself walking arm in arm with Robbie towards the casino. She saw two men on the door. She couldn’t see any guns but knew they were armed.

“The password is snapdragon” Oliver said into her ear.

She reached up to adjust her earpieces position but stopped, reminding herself she’s undercover. The doormen stopped them and asked for the password. Together she and Robbie gave them the phrase. What a strange password, but then again she did spend a lot of time online, where passwords typically consisted of upper and lower case letters, peppered with numbers and other symbols. This was real life where that just wouldn’t make sense. The doormen let them through. They passed through a second set of doors to the main casino. It all looked very nice, aside from the illegal nature of it. Everything was clean and orderly. Waitresses carried trays of drinks to people. Everyone was dressed immaculately.

“What do you see?” Oliver asked them.

“Six armed guards” Robbie replied, his voice low and gravelly, sending shivers down her spine.

“Two pit bosses and a floor man” she finished.

She wondered why Robbie didn’t report them, but then remembered. Robbie was only sixteen, likely never having been in a casino before so wouldn’t recognise them. It made her feel old, and even more weird about the middle aged teenager she was walking with.

“No slot machines either, what a rubbish casino without lucky sevens.”

“Stay focussed please” Oliver said, trying to keep her on track.

“Thanks. It feels really good having you inside me” she said, the words coming out without any thought behind them.

She felt Robbie recoil slightly beside her.

“I mean your voice in my ear” she tried explaining.

“Please never say that again” Robbie said shaking his head.

Her cheeks burned red, but she pushed it aside. She’d seen the blackjack tables. She led Robbie over to them and took a seat. Now she was in her element. Enough of words and awkward moments, this was all probability and maths. The next few minutes went by smoothly. She watched the cards, Robbie watched her. If he looked like he usually did, she might have been flattered by the impressed look he was giving her, but now it made her skin crawl. It hadn’t been intentional, but still.

“Blackjack!”

She laughed to herself as the chips were pushed her way. This was all for the mission, but why not have a little fun while she was here.

“Miss, can you come with me please?” the floorman asked her.

“Is there a problem” Robbie asked as she took a drink.

“Get up” he replied, forcefully.

“Well, since you asked so nicely” she said.

“You too” the floorman told Robbie, who obliged.

He led them away from the main floor, past the bathrooms. She wanted to make a joke, but her mouth had gone dry and she couldn’t get the words out.

“Mr Alonzo.”

They were in the manager’s office, sat before Dominic Alonzo. He put down his phone and gestured to the seats in front of him. They took them, Felicity tentatively, Robbie faux-confidently.

“Look, I don’t know what the issue is here, Mr Alonzo” Robbie said, pulling off an air of suave yet slimy socialite.

“My problem isn’t with you Mr…?” Alonzo said.

His focus was on Robbie. Felicity pulled from her purse a small mole chip and planted it on the back of his computer tower. Alonzo saw nothing, too focussed on dealing with Robbie’s act.

“Wayne.”

“Mr Wayne. I have no troubles with you but if you don’t keep your mouth shut, I just might start having some. My trouble is with your girl here. I don’t take kindly to cheaters. Leave your chips and go” he said.

“Cheaters!” Robbie said, faking outrage.

“Honey, please don’t. We’re very sorry Mr Alonzo” Felicity said, playing the part of wife, or girlfriend, or something, she wasn’t entirely sure.

Either way, she tugged on Robbie’s arm, making him stand up. They were about to leave, when one of the guards pulled out a small black device. He stood between them and the door, extending a small antenna.

“But then, the thing with cheaters is that they work in groups to maximise their chances” Alonzo said rounding the table.

“Now this is just ridiculous” Robbie said, keeping up his act.

Alonzo wasn’t buying it. He reached into her ear and pulled out the communicator. He smiled gravely, dropping the small bud and smashing it with his foot. Felicity’s heart was racing.

“Well, if you knew who I was working with, you wouldn’t have done that.”

There was a crash, several gunshots, the sound of people being hit. Oliver was making his move. Alonzo retrieved a gun from his desk and levelled it at the pair of them. Robbie reacted accordingly. He lashed out, knocking the gun aside and pushing Felicity to safety. She watched as his disguise seemed to melt, like the shards of glass from before were falling off of him. The other guard in the room, the one with the antenna device turned away from the door, bringing his gun up only to be met with a punch to the face. It was surprisingly effective, knocking him against the doorframe on his knees, letting Robbie aim a kick to his head. It was a hard blow and the guard slumped unconscious. Alonzo had scrabbled on the floor, trying to reach his gun. He found it and brought it up, but Robbie had been ready. He twisted his wrists, the gun dropping limply from his hands. There was a loud crack and Alonzo dropped, cradling his arm. The crashes and screams from the main room subsided and Oliver joined them, in full combat gear. Alonzo looked at the hood and the ghost and back away in fear. Oliver picked him up roughly and shoved him against a wall.

“Where’s Walter Steele?” he asked, his voice laced with menace.

“What are you talking about?” Alonzo asked.

“Six months ago you had him kidnapped” Robbie said, his voice hissing around the room.

“It was just a job, I didn’t…” Oliver jammed his hand around his throat, threatening to squeeze.

“Last chance.”

“In the ground. I delivered him and heard a gunshot. They killed him.”

Oliver punched him. Alonzo slumped to the floor unconscious. The three looked to one another, disheartened. Had this all been for nothing?

 

The lights were on when Felicity had arrived. A not too unusual occurrence as it seemed like either Oliver or Robbie or both lived in this basement full time. Both of them were there, Oliver sat against one of the support structures and Robbie stood in the middle of the room, heads down. The mood was sombre, not at all friendly. She had assumed that they were still reacting to the news of Walter’s death. But then Oliver had asked said Malcolm Merlyn and now it was all hands to battle stations. That was three hours ago. Now they were gearing up for a fight.

 

Robbie gripped his arm. It wasn’t especially tight but it was secure. His eyes were closed as he focussed. Oliver looked ahead of them to the screens and Felicity’s concerned expression. This was only the second time she’d seen Robbie do this and she was still unsure about it. Oliver did have to admit a certain amount of nerves. He knew that Robbie was more than capable of getting them where they needed to be, but he’d only taken him with him a handful of times. “Got it” Robbie said. The lights flickered in the basement. Oliver felt a sickening lurch as it felt like the floor gave out from under him and he fell. It must have only been a few feet but it was enough to disorient him somewhat. His vision blurred, only coming back to focus as his feet made contact with the hard surface of a roof. Instinct took over. They were in the right spot. Robbie crouched beside him, his breathing quicker than usual as he regained his composure. Taking more than one person always left him short of breath.

“You know the plan” Oliver said.

Robbie nodded. There was a metal walkway just below them. It ran around the perimeter of a large courtyard in the middle of the building. Robbie dropped down onto it and moved quickly. He wasn’t alone. In the time it had taken to drop down, he was joined by several others, perfect duplicates of Robbie. It was again something to wrap his head around, but Oliver had long ago learned to trust Robbie when it came to this. The plan was fairly simple. Robbie would keep the perimeter guards occupied, making it seem like they were under attack by a large number of attackers, which would hopefully draw out some of the other guards while Oliver worked his way through the inside. Oliver moved silently, finding a window to force open. He found a target fairly quickly when the first shots were heard. Robbie had engaged.

“Just to be clear, I was supposed to let them shoot” Robbie asked over the comms.

“Yes, enough to let them know you’re a threat but not enough to kill you” Felicity replied, saving Oliver from potentially giving away his position.

The window opened and Oliver entered. He could hear movement faintly through the walls. Robbie’s distraction was certainly working. He moved out of the room and into a long plain corridor. He worked quickly, checking rooms only briefly before moving on. He had a feeling he’d know the correct room when he found it. First of all, it’d be locked, and secondly, it’d be guarded. He was at the stairs to the level below when he encountered his first opponent. The guard was running, probably to reinforce a position when he saw Oliver. He didn’t let off a shot; he barely had a chance to shout when Oliver kicked him down the stairs. It had been quite quiet take down, but nonetheless it had alerted others. Another long grey corridor brought a wave of guards. He weaved and ducked, positioning himself between two. He whipped out his bow, striking one hard into the wall, as his leg came up, catching the other in the chest. He fell hard as more descended. They tried grabbing at him. He shrugged off their attempts and slammed them into walls. He let arrows fly at opponents coming at him as he punched at the ones around him. He grabbed a head and slammed it into a wall multiple times. The remaining guards ran, thinking that it isn’t worth trying. He gave them an arrow each. The bodies lay around him. Gunshots sang from the outside. Robbie was certainly drawing them away. He rounded a corner.

“Shoot him!”

Bullets whizzed past as he rushed the pair of guards. Their guns were useless at this close range but Oliver gave them no time to reach for knives. They fell before they could do more than grunt in pain. The door was bolted shut, a small slit at the bottom to push things through. This was it. He checked the coast was clear, but it sounded like they were all dealing with Robbie. He unbolted the door and entered. The room was just as bare as the walls of the building it was in. A single light illuminated everything in ghostly shadows. The sole decoration was a bed pushed against the far wall, occupied by a man in a grey jumpsuit. Oliver pushed the button on his chest.

“Mr Steele?”

He was sure it was Walter, but he had to be sure. Who knows who else Malcolm Merlyn had abducted. The man stirred, turning to face him. He blinked in the harsh light, bewildered at what was happening.

“What’s going on? Who are you?” he said.

He was defensive, but Oliver had expected nothing less.

“It’s ok. We’re going to get you home.”

There was movement behind him. He whipped around, drawing back his bow. It was Robbie. Oliver relaxed as Robbie joined him at the door. He saw him smile when he saw Walter.

“You found him” Robbie said, his voice whispery like he usually did.

Oliver heard the sounds of several pairs of feet all moving towards him.

“What happened?” he asked urgently.

“Had to abandon the outside, too much heat. We need to leave now.”

The footsteps were rapidly approaching.

“Inside” Robbie said, pushing Oliver into the room and closing the door.

He held his hand to where the bolt was on the other side, and Oliver heard it slide shut.

“What’s happening?” Walter asked, concerned.

Oliver drew his bow, aiming at the door.

“Will you be able to take all three of us?” Oliver asked.

“I will, just hold on” Robbie replied, closing his eyes.

He reached out, taking a hold of Walter’s arm and Oliver’s shoulder. The footsteps were close, he could hear them calling out. They’d seen the guards unconscious on the other side of the door.

“Any time now” Oliver said, trying to urge Robbie along without distracting him.

The light flickered. Oliver felt his stomach lurching again. It seemed to last much longer than usual. Somebody tried opening the door. The bolt was ripped open. Oliver thought he saw the butt of gun but then the floor gave way and he fell. They were in the middle of the police headquarters. He ducked his head and stowed his arrow. The police all looked too stunned at what had just happened. Robbie let go of Walter, who stumbled away from them. He felt Robbie’s grip on him tighten and he fell again, this time landing in the basement. Felicity jumped at their sudden arrival.

“Oh my god!”

Oliver staggered into a table, trying to catch his breath. Robbie collapsed to the floor. Felicity went to him, checking he was alright. Oliver’s head was clearing. He picked Robbie up by his shoulders, standing him up and guiding him to chair. He thanked him as he swayed slightly. Robbie had once said that teleporting, or whatever it was he could do, made him feel light headed and dizzy, doubly so if he did it more than once in a row, hence why he never did. It had been necessary tonight though.

“I guess it was a success then. You guys really suck at keeping me up to date on the radio” Felicity said.

“It was. Pull up the police feed please.”

Felicity clicked a few buttons and read the screen.

“I’m getting a ton of chatter about Walter” she said, “apparently, the hood and the ghost appeared in the middle of SCPD, dropped off Walter and then disappeared.”

“We were in a pinch” Robbie said, slightly spaced out.

Oliver read the page of chatter. Walter was being taken to Starling General for examination. He was back with them now. He was home. He hadn’t been back for that long, he’d not had the years of getting used to Walter and his mother being together, but he still felt a sense of happiness seeing him saved. He could only imagine how Thea and Mom would react. Mom. The thought of her brought everything back into focus. She’d known about Walter, she’d known about the undertaking. She’d known and she’d lied. Maybe she needed another visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, any feedback would be greatly appreciated.
> 
> I'm getting towards the end of season 1 which is exciting. It's only taken me six months. And in almost the same number of chapters as episodes. I swear that wasn't intentional.


	21. Darkness Discovered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x22

The room was dark. Lights blinded her as she came to.

“Mom.”

That was Oliver, her beautiful boy. What happened? He’d asked her questions. No. Why did he have to pry? Hadn’t she warned him? He’d persisted. Moira snapped into focus. Where was she? Worry coursed through her veins at the thought of what that twisted archer in the black hood had planned for them. The lights were shining on her, obscuring her vision, but she could see Oliver tied to a chair opposite her.

“Oliver?”

Her voice was laced with nerves. What was going on? Was this Malcolm? She tried standing, to go to her son, to protect him in any way she could, but she was tied to her chair. She was trapped. She tried swallowing the panic, with very limited success.

“We’ve got to get out of here!” she said, frantically looking around them.

Where was he? All around them were shadows. In any one of them, Merlyn’s pet archer could be lurking. Something moved, catching her attention. From the darkness a figure emerged. He was hooded, but not like Malcolm’s archer. It was softer and she could just about see green. The hood. From behind her, somebody else joined the vigilante. Smaller than the hood, he walked softly, not making any sound. This must be the ghost she’d heard about. Her worry over Malcolm subsided, replaced instead by this new problem. The hood had interrogated her once before, but she had been lucky and escaped unharmed. Now here they were, both Starling vigilantes before her, while she and her son were trapped.

“Moira Queen” the hood said, his voice sounding unnaturally deep.

He moved to stand behind Oliver, his head kept down always. The ghost moved to stand in front of Oliver, keeping his back to her.

“You have failed this city” a whispery, hissing voice spoke into her ear, sending chills down her spine.

The two vigilantes stood by her son. Oliver didn’t look afraid, but what exactly that meant Moira couldn’t be sure. Realisation dawned on her. The hood failed to get information from her last time, so now they were trying again, using Oliver as leverage. That thought scared her more than any threat they could make against her.

“Please, don’t hurt my son!” she begged.

Moira considered herself a strong woman, but there were some things which would always break her.

“Tell me what the undertaking is” the hood demanded.

Moira struggled with her words. How did the hood know about that? She should have realised. He’d been targeting names on the list for months now. Of course he’d eventually figure it out. Something was stopping her. Even now, she couldn’t say anything. The hood and the ghost exchanged a glance, before the ghost placed a hand in the middle of Oliver’s chest. The smell of burning fabric filled the air and Oliver cried out.

“NO! Please don’t!” she begged.

“Tell me!” the hood demanded once more.

“Leave my son alone!”

“What is Malcolm Merlyn planning?” the ghost hissed, sending more chills down her spine.

She was desperate now. She didn’t know what they were doing to Oliver, but she was sure it wasn’t good.

“I can’t tell you that” she admitted, her voice laced with fear, “he’ll kill me, he’ll kill my children.”

The ghost removed his hand from Oliver’s chest and held his palm up. She could see it glowing, like it was hot.

“He’s not here. We are” the ghost said, moving his hand to Oliver’s face.

Instinct took over, like it should have done from the start.

“No! Malcolm is planning to level the Glades, supposedly to rebuild it” she nearly screamed at the two vigilantes, anything to make them stop.

“How?” the hood demanded.

“A device, something he got from Unidac industries. It’s supposed to make an earthquake. He had my company weaponise it.”

The hood moved away from Oliver, standing right behind her. She didn’t take her eyes from her son, but he could feel his presence. The ghost lowered his hand, the glow gone.

“Why would you do this?” he said, the hissing softer than before.

“My husband. He got involved, I’m not sure when. He just wanted to save this city. What he did left me vulnerable and I needed to protect my family.”

“Where’s the device?” the hood asked.

“We can still stop Merlyn” the ghost said.

“Oh you can’t stop him” she replied with an unmistakable tone of pity.

Whoever these people were, they were fools to try and stop Malcolm.

“I don’t know where the device is. It’s already too late.”

The vigilantes regarded this. She tried catching Oliver’s eyes but the ghost was stood between them. She knew he’d be heartbroken. He loved his father, he had this image of the perfect man in his head and she’d just shattered that. What must he think of him? What must he think of her? Why did it have to be this way? The ghost moved quickly and Moira reacted.

“No, I told you everything!” she shouted as the ghost leaned over Oliver, but he only cut the ropes.

She felt the hood do the same for her and she was out of her chair, immediately closing the gap between her and her son. The vigilantes vanished into the darkness, but she didn’t care. Her family was in grave danger now. It would only be a matter of time before Malcolm found out about this and she’d once again be facing down a bow and arrow. Oliver clutched his chest, cradling the burn. In the dim lights she thought it didn’t look too bad, but it obviously must hurt a lot. Oliver was purposefully avoiding her gaze, shrinking away when she tried to help him. She didn’t want to lose him, not again.

“Oliver please, you have to understand. I never wanted this happen” she said, pleading with him.

The look Oliver gave her hurt more than anything the vigilantes could have done.

“You know I would never have gotten involved in this by choice.”

Oliver stood, shrugging away her offered help.

“I don’t know anything. Not anymore.” He walked away, leaving her alone. Fear coursed through her veins, mixed with dread and regret, which chilled her more than anything else. What had she done?

 

His chest burned, making it painful to breath. Robbie was working on it, and the pain was easing, but still.

“I did say to tone down the beating” Felicity said, concern not quite overriding disapproval.

Oliver didn’t want to respond. He knew Felicity disagreed with questioning Moira again, but she’d relented when Diggle and Robbie had sided with him. Robbie’s hand was glowing an emerald green colour. Something that looked like a liquid but moved like a gas was flowing from his hand to Oliver’s chest, working its way around the burn.

“Why is this taking so long?” he asked Robbie.

“You want the burn healed but the scar left. I’m not a miracle worker, things take time.”

“So we know that Merlyn has a plan for the Glades” Diggle voiced.

“Yeah, he wants to level it” Felicity finished for him.

“Using a device to trigger a man-made earthquake, made by Unidac industries. What do we have on it?” Oliver asked, wincing as Robbie finished.

“Not much, they were acquired by Queen Consolidated about seven months ago” she read from a screen, before looking up at Oliver, “that was when we met.”

“Anything else?”

“Not really, they’re a research and development facility with all kinds of active projects. Though there is this that’s been all over the news” she replied, indicating the news story on screen.

“The Unidac massacre. Scientists and security guards all killed before the servers were destroyed” Robbie read.

“Exactly. Now I couldn’t get into the servers for obvious reasons, so I went to see what the police had found. They were all killed with arrows” Felicity told them.

“The other archer?” Oliver asked darkly.

“Looks like it,” Felicity replied.

“Tying up loose ends. Obviously Merlyn doesn’t want anybody to figure out what he’s up to.”

“Which would mean any information about the device is sealed up in Merlyn’s mainframe.”

“Can you hack into it?” Diggle asked Felicity.

“You know, hacking’s such a dirty word, but yeah I should be able to” she replied.

“How long?” Oliver asked.

“Don’t know, Merlyn has impressive security systems, and I mean impressive.”

“Would it be quicker to access the mainframe directly?” Robbie asked.

They all turned to look at him.

“I mean, yeah it would, but I can’t exactly stroll up to his servers and plug in my tablet.”

“You wouldn’t be strolling” Robbie said.

“No” Oliver said flatly.

“We need this information, and we need it now. Oliver, I can get her in and out, nobody will even know we were there.”

Oliver said nothing. It was true, they needed intel, but this plan was full of risks. He trusted Robbie, he trusted Felicity, but there was something about sending them off on a mission without him that made him uneasy. That unease was only made worse by the fact that he had sent them on missions before, Robbie at least.

“Oliver, maybe this isn’t such a bad idea. If Merlyn finds out that the hood knows what he’s planning, he’ll probably move a lot faster” Diggle told him calmly.

Oliver wanted to protest, but he could find no argument.

“Fine,” he relented, “but the slightest bit of trouble, you get out of there.”

“Ok” Robbie said, moving to the middle of the room.

Felicity looked unsure of this, but when she caught Oliver’s eye, she nodded resolutely. Robbie’s eyes were closed, his breathing deep. After a little while, he beckoned Felicity to join him. Tentatively, she did so. Just as he had done with Oliver, Robbie gripped her shoulder. The lights flickers ominously, plunging them all into darkness for a split second, and in that time, the pair of them vanished.

 

It had been a short trip, but a productive one, though Felicity still wasn’t sure her stomach had entirely settled. It had been a weird sensation, like she was falling but her feet were still on the ground. Robbie hadn’t faltered. They’d appeared directly in the server room on the 25th floor of the Merlyn global group headquarters. Thankfully, no one had seen their entrance, and she’d been able to set up the Trojan quickly. Now she was back at her desk, sifting through all of the data her program was gathering. Oliver had left a while ago, something about Laurel he’d said. She didn’t really want to know the details. Diggle was with her in the base and so was Robbie. Neither really knew how to handle the data, so were finding other ways to keep themselves occupied. Had she been in any other situation, she’d have found the silence awkward, but here, with these people, she knew she had a job to do, one they were relying on her for, so it wasn’t awkward at all. The computers made a noise, drawing her attention. Diggle looked up and joined her at the terminal.

“Got something?” he asked her.

“Something and then some” she replied.

She was about to tell him to call Oliver, but he already had his phone to his ear. Robbie stood a little ways away, watching and listening.

“Oliver, we’ve got a location for the device. It’s in a warehouse Merlyn’s company owns in the Glades.”

Felicity and Robbie both waited patiently. Diggle briefly looked at the information on the screen.

“According to Felicity’s Trojan, he’s logged onto his office computer.”

He spoke as he began checking his gun. It occurred to Felicity that it was very weird hearing only one side of a phone conversation, though she had a very educated guess as to what Oliver was saying.

“Oliver, are you sure?” Diggle said.

He looked at his phone, seeing the call had ended.

“What’s the plan?” Robbie asked, having somehow changed into his gear.

“Coordinated attack, we take the device, Oliver takes Merlyn.”

“Does he not want backup?”

“Merlyn’s just a businessman, shouldn’t be too difficult.”

The pair of them gathered their things and left to find the device, leaving Felicity alone. She just hoped that Diggle was right. Hopefully, this wouldn’t be too difficult.

 

They approached the warehouse cautiously. Outside were containers and empty drums, giving them plenty of cover. The approach was unopposed. In fact, they hadn’t seen anyone at all. It was making John feel uneasy.

“Something doesn’t feel right” Robbie said quietly.

“Glad to know it’s not just me.”

They entered without making a sound. John had his gun raised, ready to face the security that surely must be present. Robbie edged to his other side. Together they worked through the warehouse from both sides. The quiet was starting to make him jumpy. Every time he moved his torch, he thought he saw something, only for it to be a barrel, or a slightly crooked box. He moved through a plastic door covering and saw a large wooden crate. Unidac Industries was stamped on the side. This was it.

“I got eyes on.”

Carefully, he approached the box. Robbie appeared at his side, equally as careful. If Merlyn left no guards, then the box must be booby trapped in some way. They set to work, examining every inch of it. Oliver must have engaged Merlyn by now. They needed to be quick, just in case he triggered it.

“I got nothing” Robbie said.

“Same” John replied.

The box seemed like just that, a box. The pair exchanged one last look. It could still be rigged, but there was no way of knowing. No way, besides opening it and finding out. Time to bite the bullet, John thought. They silently counted down and swung open the heavy lid. They both jumped back, but nothing happened. No explosives, no guards rushing in. The lack of any kind of resistance was getting unbearable now.

“Dig” Robbie said, peering into the box. John followed his gaze. He had expected to see a countdown clock, a mess of wiring, something, anything, but there was nothing. The box was empty.

“Oliver, the device” he spoke into his com unit, “it’s gone.”

Robbie looked at him. His usually unreadable face was clearly asking one thing. Were they too late?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lack of updates. Uni work has kept me very busy.


	22. You Can't Stop Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1x23

_“Can I help you? I wasn’t talking to you.”_

_“Malcolm Merlyn, you have failed this city.”_

The memories washed over him, chilling him like nothing else. What had happened? John had said the device had been moved, he had shot an arrow at Merlyn, and Merlyn. He’d caught the arrow. He’d told him that he was the one who tried to kill him at Christmas. They’d fought, and Malcolm had beaten him. Cold blasted through him as a bucket of water was thrown at him, wrenching Oliver back to consciousness. He was alone, stood in the centre of a large warehouse room. His shirt was removed and his arms were chained to a pipe above him, keeping him standing. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. He had no idea where he was. His mind was busy formulating a plan, when someone took slow deliberate steps towards him.

“I hope I didn’t hurt you, too much at least.”

Malcolm Merlyn stepped out of the shadows. Anger and confusion spread through Oliver’s body. If only he wasn’t in chains.

“At least now, I get to thank you for saving my life.”

Malcolm circled him like a shark. Oliver kept looking straight ahead, sensing his movement around him.

“If only I’d known how you were spending your nights. I hope I’ll be able to explain everything to you, so that you can understand.”

“Understand! You murdered my father, you condemned me to that island. I think I understand enough!” Oliver retorted.

Malcolm hung his head as he passed in front of him.

“I am truly sorry for that, it was never my intention.”

“But it was to kill my father, your friend!”

“I’ve lost people, people that I care deeply about, people that I miss with all my heart. What I am doing is honouring them,” Malcolm said calmly, stopping to face Oliver with the hood in his hand, “just as you feel you’re honouring him by wearing this hood.”

Oliver bit back the anger, but spoke nonetheless.

“I am going to stop you.”

“Oh I’m sure you’ll try. Like I said before, I didn’t know how you got the Trojan onto my system. After all, you weren’t anywhere near my building that entire day. But then I remembered your little friend.”

Oliver’s hard gaze faltered slightly.

“That’s right. I know who he is, or more specifically I know what he is. I know I can’t keep you here for long. I just need you here long enough.”

Oliver didn’t speak. Instead, he shot Malcolm a look of pure venom.

“There’s that stubbornness, I guess you really are your father’s son.”

“Then you should be very afraid.”

Malcolm took a defiant step closer.

“You can’t beat me Oliver. Yes you’re younger, you’re faster, yet there always seems to be something holding you back. You don’t know what you’re fighting for, what you will need to sacrifice and I do.”

Malcolm turned and walked away, dropping the hood as he went.

“No one can stop what’s coming. Not even the vigilante.”

Oliver was left alone, pondering Malcolm’s words, feeling the anger course through his veins. He needed to get out of here, and soon.

 

Slowly, carefully, Oliver lifted himself off the ground, pulling himself up the chains. This was either a brilliant plan to get out, or one of the stupidest things he’d done in a while. He climbed higher until his legs were at the pipe holding the chains. He didn’t look back; if he did he might think twice. He let go of the chains suddenly, dropping all of the distance he’d climbed. As he’d hoped, the pipe wasn’t strong enough. It broke from the sudden shock, continuing his fall all the way to the ground. The wind was briefly knocked from him as the chains hit the ground next to him. Instinct took over as he heard someone rapidly approaching. Twisting around, he saw someone enter the room carrying a gun. He sprung up and threw his chains at them. The heavy metal caught the guard in the chest, sending him sprawling back against a wall. Oliver was on him quickly, before he could react, and he grabbed his head and twisted it sharply. There was a crack and the guard went limp. He heard more footsteps and Oliver positioned himself near the door Malcolm left through. He wielded the chains like a whip, swinging it viciously through the air, smashing the gun out of the approaching guard’s hands. As the guard yelped, Oliver wrapped the chains around his neck, squeezing tightly. The guard struggled briefly, before going limp like his comrade. Another guard rushed to stop him. The lights flickered ominously and a figure dropped from the ceiling. The guard hadn’t expected it and he was quickly disposed of by the newcomer. The figure turned, stepping into the light. Through his mask, Robbie’s eyes were intense.

“Maybe you should have had back up.”

 

The four of them stood in stunned silence. Moira’s press conference had shocked them all. They all knew things were only going to get worse from here. Robbie looked over at Oliver. He had his back to them, his hands moving over the beaten wood of his case. It had contained his bow, but Merlyn had broken that, just as he had broken Oliver’s family. Moira Queen will go to prison for sure, he thought, who knows what will happen with Thea.

“Oliver I’m so sorry” Felicity said.

“Don’t be. She gave them time.”

He opened his case, like he had a hundred times before. Only surely there was nothing for him to take from it.

“Didn’t Merlyn break your bow?” Robbie asked.

From the case, he pulled another one, slimmer and longer than the other.

“I have a spare” Oliver replied.

Of course he did, Robbie thought. This was it, time to gear up. He turned to face them.

“According to the schematics, the device can either be triggered by a timer or by a remote transmitter” Felicity said.

“Something which Merlyn would have close to hand” Oliver said.

“If we have the transmitter then maybe we won’t need to track down the device” Diggle suggested but Oliver shook his head.

“It’s too big of an if.”

He shook his head.

“We don’t know if the device is guarded or not, so Robbie, I need you and Diggle in the subway. Find the device and shut it down.”

“So you can go and fight Merlyn alone, again” Robbie said, slightly incredulously.

Oliver didn’t look at him; he didn’t look at any of them. He seemed almost resigned.

“I have to.”

“No, he’ll kill you” Diggle said.

Oliver slowly, finally, looked at them. Whatever thoughts were going through his head, Robbie was sure that they were weighing on him greatly.

“I know. He’s already beaten me twice, and I don’t know how to stop him.”

“Well how about this time you go prepared” Robbie said.

Oliver shot him a look.

“With backup” Diggle said, stepping forward, “me.”

“No, I can’t let you.”

“I can’t let you do this by yourself.”

“Oliver, you’re not alone,” Robbie said, stepping forward to join Diggle, “this has never been just your crusade.”

“Besides, army regulations, no soldier fights alone.”

Diggle extended his hand, which Oliver took. Though he was still burdened, Robbie felt the weight lift slightly.

“Then I guess I’ll tag in for the dismantling” Felicity said, “like we agreed, it’s a two person job.”

“No, this could go south at any minute, I don’t want you anywhere near” Oliver told her.

“If you’re not leaving, I’m not leaving. Besides, if Robbie’s running interference on any guards, then who’s going to deactivate the device?”

Oliver looked as though an idea had struck. He turned and reached to the nearby desk, grabbing a mobile phone. He dialled the number. It was the phone to contact Detective Lance. Robbie knew where this was going. Diggle went to prepare his guns. He would need all of his training, with both the army and the small amount he’d had with Oliver and Robbie, to fight Merlyn. Robbie also prepared himself. He had an earthquake machine to help disarm.

 

Lance approached the entrance, already very agitated. What the hell was happening in this city? More importantly, how on Earth had he been roped into this? He’d set out to catch the vigilantes in his city, but now he had been tasked by one of them to accompany the other in disabling an earthquake machine. He didn’t like the idea of vigilantes. The law needed to be upheld, it couldn’t just be taken into people’s hands; there would be chaos otherwise. But when the hood had called, saying that Malcolm Merlyn was going to destroy the Glades, and when he’d called again asking for help disarming it, he had softened somewhat. Surely a criminal wouldn’t be so eager to seek help from the police. Moira Queen’s press conference had certainly made his superiors take it seriously, and he would be damned if he was going to sit idly when there was something he could do. People were rushing about, panicking. He wanted to stop them, get them to be more orderly. If they continued like this, nobody would get anywhere, but he had a job to do. He hurried down the stairs, down to the station, when he felt somebody alongside him. He swung around, his well-honed instincts bringing his gun up. He relaxed slightly. It was only the ghost. Only. It must be testament to the sort of day it was if that was the case.

“Detective.”

The ghost continued down into the dark.

“If you’re here, why do I need to be?” he asked.

It was a valid question. He had other things he should be doing, like evacuating citizens.

“Because someone needs to disarm the device, but it might also be guarded. So you’ll do the disarming, while I deal with anybody trying to stop you.”

“Couldn’t the blonde do the technical stuff, it seems like what she’s good at?”

“She’s a civilian.”

They continued in silence. Lance pulled out his torch as they moved from the station and into the tunnels. The ghost didn’t seem to care about the dark. Lance never had a chance to look at him up close before. He didn’t know what he had expected, but it wasn’t this. He was just a kid!

“Who are you?” he asked pointedly.

The ghost ignored him, moving confidently ahead. Lance moved slightly more cautiously.

“Felicity, are we getting close?”

Lance didn’t have an earpiece, so didn’t hear the reply. He was about to say something when the ghost handed him a small earpiece. He didn’t say anything further, just continued walking. Lance shook his head, resigning to the device. As soon as it was in, a quick voice was in his ear.

“Ok guys, you’re almost there. If I’m reading this geological map correctly, the best place for the device would be just ahead of you.”

“I’ve got it” the ghost called out.

Lance hurried to catch up. He only went short way when he saw the machine. It was a heavy looking metal cylinder, suspended above the ground via a sturdy apparatus.

“Jesus” he said under his breath.

“Detective, we got this” Felicity said in his ear.

Lance steeled himself and knelt by the device. The ghost walked around, eyes scanning the darkness.

“This doesn’t feel right” he said eventually.

“What do you mean?” Lance asked.

“Merlyn moved the device when he knew we’d come looking for it. Why leave it unguarded now?”

“We can’t worry about that” Felicity said, “you should see something that looks like a circuit board.”

Lance knelt down beside the cylinder. He was no expert, lord knows especially not with computers, but he was fairly certain circuit boards were flat. So that would make the flat panel on the side the circuit board.

“Pull it out.”

He carefully pulled off the metal covering, revealing the wires inside. What on earth was all of this?

“Do you see a timer?” she asked.

“Yes” the ghost replied, standing to Lance’s left. Lance followed his gaze and saw a large screen with a countdown clock on it. If things weren’t so serious, he might have thought it was comical.

“We got seven minutes” he said, more to himself than to either Felicity or the ghost.

“Well” Felicity said, almost like she was steeling herself, “this is going to be a paperweight in three.”

 

The going was fairly slow. Lance had realised he needed a knife, but the ghost had provided one. Lance hadn’t seen it before, so where he’d gotten it from was beyond him. Still, he worked diligently, following Felicity’s instructions as the ghost prowled. It seemed like the lack of guards was agitating him. Lance glanced back at the clock, a habit he kept telling himself was bad. Five minutes, he could do this.

“Ok, there should be three wires in front of you, one green, one yellow and one blue. Cut the blue one.”

“I got it, I got it” he said as he found the correct one.

He sliced the wire. He didn’t quite know what to expect, maybe for the lights of the machine to shut off all at once. It wasn’t a good sign then when the machine seemed to wake up. The heavy cylinder slowly began to lower itself to the ground.

“No, no, no!”

The ghost ceased his stalking and joined Lance at the machine. They both watched as the timer on the screen jumbled its numbers, before settling again. They now only had two minutes.

“Holy god” Lance said.

“There must be some sort of failsafe against tampering. I’m going to try and figure out how to override it” Felicity told them.

“You need to hurry Felicity. The hood has already engaged Merlyn. We’re running out of time” the ghost said.

Lance backed away. Despite how unknown all of this was, he had somewhat felt in control until now. Despite Felicity telling them to hold on, he couldn’t help but feel like they had failed. They didn’t have enough time. The counter kept ticking down. He didn’t want to die here. He didn’t want to leave Laurel on her own. Laurel! He took out his phone and rapidly dialled. She would be at CNRI, even though he’d told her not to. If he wasn’t going to make it, he would be happy so long as he knew she was safe. The call was hard going. He just hoped she understood and got as far away from the Glades as possible.

“Detective Lance, I need you to listen very carefully.”

 

Robbie felt it happen. He felt the sharp jolt in his chest which meant Oliver had just been stabbed. It must have been painful, but not life threatening. The fighting was over. Now it was up to Detective Lance to finish disarming the device. Felicity had found how to get around the failsafe and had given Lance step by step instructions. He could see Lance’s hands shaking slightly, but they held the knife firmly nonetheless. He sliced through one more wire and the machine went dead. Lance slumped back on the floor, releasing the built up tension. Robbie felt himself relax. He held out a hand and Lance took it, picking himself up off the floor. Together, they made their way back out of the station. Lance seemed pleased, but Robbie still felt slightly uneasy. They had stopped the device, but Merlyn had left it unguarded, completely exposed. He was not a foolish man. What else did he have up his sleeve? They made their way up the stairs and back onto the street. Compared to the still tension of the tunnel, it was complete chaos. People were still running for their lives.

“I’ve got a call to make, get people to calm down” Lance said, bringing out his phone, when all of a sudden the ground beneath their feet shook.

Lance nearly fell to his feet, but braced himself on a parked car. Robbie stood his ground. The shaking didn’t stop. He and Lance ran down the street. Nearby cars shook and they could both hear things toppling, glass shattering and the unmistakable sound of people screaming.

“What’s going on?” Lance shouted above the racket.

They rounded a corner as a lamppost toppled onto a car, sending sparks everywhere.

“I turned the damn thing off!” Lance said into his earpiece.

“Merlyn had another device” Felicity whimpered.

The two of them both stopped in their tracks.

“Laurel” was all Lance said before continuing.

“Felicity” Robbie said.

He had heard the sounds of rocks falling in the base. He concentrated on her, he needed to be quick. Suddenly, he was with her, appearing on the desk in front of her. He just had enough to time register the chunk of ceiling that would have fallen on her head, before diving forward, knocking her away from her desk. The chunk landed behind them. Felicity gave him a tight hug as they both felt the shaking subside.

“Are you alright?” he asked her.

“Yes, thank you” she said.

They both surveyed the damage. Overall, not so bad, beside the loose bits of ceiling that had fallen. Felicity approached her desk, tentatively, unsure whether anything else was going to fall.

“Oliver?” she said into her earpiece, the breadth of what had happened heavy in her voice.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

“I’m fine, thanks to Robbie.”

Things were still settling. Sparks exploded from generator making her jump, but Robbie put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“The damage seems to be contained to the east side, past Well Street.”

“Laurel” they heard Oliver say on the other end.

Felicity and Robbie looked at one another. They could still hear things falling and explosions going off in the distance. Oliver had gone silent. The rest of the team were left in the same silence. They had stopped Merlyn, yes, but beyond that they had achieved nothing. They had failed this city.


	23. The Time In Between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2x00

He ran down the streets, diving between people as they hurried about their business. The lady was far from him by now, still screaming about her stolen purse which he clutched in his hands. She had tried to keep it close to her, but she wasn’t strong enough and he’d wrenched it from her. Though he passed people, though they surely must have heard her cries for help, they did nothing. It had been months since the undertaking, since the Glades had been torn apart. In this city, this part of it at least, it was everyone for themselves. He ducked into an alleyway and into the ruined shell of a building. Once he got through this to the other side, he could blend in to the scenery and just be another bystander, home free. He was out in the open when he heard it. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it was enough to make him stop in his tracks. He quickly looked around, hoping it was just his imagination. There it was again, behind him. He spun quickly, drawing his knife.

“Who’s there?” he called into the dark.

The sun had not long set. There were still some feeble rays of light creeping through the cracks, making the shadows dance in every corner. The noise was behind him again. His first thought was homeless people. There were plenty of them, but other than the noise he kept hearing there was no sign of anyone. Something passed over a window, blocking out the last of the light temporarily. He jumped in his skin, trying to see what had been there, but there was nothing. The vigilante. Why hadn’t he thought of him sooner? Probably because nobody had seen him for months, he replied in his head. With a renewed sense of urgency, he tried bolting across the room, trying to get out of this building and back into the open streets. He nearly made it to the door when instinct told him he was being followed. He ignored it and burst out of the ruined building. He just needed to get out of this alley. He could see the street, but instinct told him to turn around. He glanced over his shoulder as he ran and saw nothing. His legs caught on something, sending him sprawling. He picked himself up and readied for a fight. His assailant was nowhere to be seen.

“That purse doesn’t belong to you.”

The voice was whispery, almost hissing, like it was directly in his ear. He swung around, his knife flashing in the light of the street. His arm was caught. They braced, preventing him from moving to continue his swing. He saw his foe, finally. It was just a kid, still a teenager, standing at least a head shorter than him. He wore a tunic, both over and under, of white and dark grey fabric, with more of the same wrapping his legs. He wore a black belt and a mask of black fabric, tied around his head. It all looked well-worn and dirty, as though it was in use constantly. This must be the ghost. Like all petty crooks, he’d heard the stories, and like most others he didn’t believe them. At least the hood had a trail of arrows and a sizable body count to show he was actually real. But here he was, and he didn’t waste time. He pushed and pulled with opposite arms, making him drop his knife. The thief swung with his other arm, but the ghost jumped back, avoiding it.

“Big mistake, little boy” he said, trying to intimidate the vigilante.

The ghost merely chuckled.

“We shall see.”

The thief charged. The ghost held his ground. He aimed a punch at the ghosts head, but he darted to side. Grabbing his arm, he pulled the thief over, driving his knee into his stomach. The wind was knocked from him, but he still kept fighting, twisting around to try and punch the ghost. It was his lucky day. He caught the smaller in the cheek. He didn’t let up though, using the momentum of the thief’s punch to spin, bringing his leg up and delivering a swift kick across his face. The thief was knocked against the alley wall. As he picked himself back up, the ghost was on him, kicking him back against the wall and punching across his face again. He was down for the count. He could only vaguely feel himself being dragged from the alley and handcuffed to a street light, only just hear someone talking on the phone telling someone where they were. He tried looking at his opponent, at the vigilante that had beaten him, but when he finally picked his head up, he was alone in the street.

 

The sun was high in the sky when John and Felicity walked down the stairs to the Foundry. The Foundry, the name that Robbie and Felicity had come up with to describe their base of operations. They never really used it with Oliver, though he didn’t seem to mind when they did, and it had stuck ever since he left. John still couldn’t believe that. He’d just vanished one day, no note, no explanation, nothing. Robbie had said that Oliver felt like a failure, something which John could understand. They had set out to try and save their city, to stop whatever Malcolm Merlyn had planned for it. Though they had succeeded in stopping Merlyn, his plan had been too much and the city had been ruined. Crime in the Glades was soaring. The police were doing what they could, but it was like trying to impose order on a warzone, so the three of them had gone to work. Though he didn’t have the same reputation as Oliver did, since outside of the police few actually believed he existed, Robbie was still capable and willing to try and get the city back on track. He had worked pretty much every night, from sundown till sun up, taking on crime in the Glades. He had sent them both home last night, something about needing to clear his head and figure something out. That had not boded well for John. He could see it, every time he looked at him, even though he didn’t say anything. Though Robbie had never complained, John felt like he was struggling on his own. Felicity led the way down the stairs. The lights were off. Maybe Robbie had gone home. He reached for the lever and switched it on. The generators jumped into action, the lights coming into life all over the basement lair. Everything was as they’d left it, apart from the bundle curled up in the middle of the floor.

“Oh my god!” Felicity said, as she’d seen it first.

The pair of them rushed over to it. It was Robbie, still in his combat gear.

“Is he alright?” Felicity asked, worried.

John examined him. He didn’t seem too injured. He listened carefully. Robbie’s breathing was deep and regular. Now that John had taken in the sight, he relaxed.

“He’s fine Felicity” he said, reaching down and shaking Robbie’s shoulder gently.

Robbie’s eyes opened and he woke with a slight start. He seemed surprised to see the pair of them.

“Rise and shine” John said reassuringly.

Robbie relaxed as well. All the tension in the room was gone.

“What time is it?” he said, getting up and stretching his legs.

“10:30, in the morning” Felicity said.

Robbie paced a little and rested against a pillar, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He winced slightly. He was sporting a sizable black eye. He flicked his hand out and brought it back to his face, massaging it with the green glow they had all become accustomed to seeing now, even if they still sometimes struggled saying what it was. Magic. Robbie was using magic. When had life become so strange?

“Productive night?” John asked.

“Petty thefts, an attempted looting, couple of assaults, so I guess it was.”

Felicity and John exchanged a look.

“Is that all that happened, or are you leaving something out?” John asked.

Robbie looked confused, as though he was thinking about what he’d left out. John motioned to his face, which he was still massaging with the green light.

“So that shiner just appeared, did it?”

“As if by magic?” Felicity added.

Robbie threw her a look, lowering his hand. The glow subsided and where once there had been a bruise was now clear.

“I took a hit, so what?”

“Robbie, I know you. I’ve seen you fight. You don’t get hit, not by common street thugs” John said calmly.

“I had an off night.”

“When was the last time you got a full night’s sleep?”

Robbie didn’t answer. He turned and walked away from them, towards one of the cabinets. He reached into it and withdrew an energy bar. John twisted his face at it. Those may be useful in a pinch, but he knew it wasn’t what Robbie needed now. He strode over and took it from him. Robbie looked at him, aghast.

“What are you…” he started.

“Go home Robbie” John ordered, “have a proper meal and a decent amount of rest. You’re exhausted.”

“I can’t Dig” Robbie said, shaking his head, “this city is on the brink of collapse. The Glades are still practically a no go zone and there’s these new players I’ve been hearing about.”

“The copycat hoods, yeah I’ve been tracking them” Felicity chimed in, pulling her tablet from her purse.

She stopped talking when John gave her a look, his expression telling her she wasn’t helping.

“Robbie, we’ve got this. Go home and get some rest.”

“John, I’m fine.”

“So we didn’t find you asleep on the floor just now” John retorted, his tone sharper now, trying to make his point clear.

Robbie dipped his head. Letting out a big sigh, he admitted defeat.

“Let me know if anything happens” he said as he walked away.

John turned back to Felicity as they heard the faint snapping sound of Robbie leaving.

“How long can he keep doing this, going out there on his own to take on an entire city’s worth of crime?” she asked him.

“I’ve got no idea” John answered her, as honestly as he could.

 

Sleep had eluded him, despite his efforts. Frustrated, Robbie wound his way through the house towards the pantry. Perhaps food would be an easier goal. The house was silent. There was nobody around to disturb him, so why shouldn’t he walk around in his sleep clothes. They were still fresh, he’d barely worn them. In truth, he’d barely been home since the Undertaking. Moira had been taken into custody. Thea, distraught, had sought comfort with her boyfriend, and when she wasn’t working spent most of her time with him. She’d only come home a few times a week, usually to pick something up. It was like she didn’t want to be anywhere near the house when her family wasn’t there. That thought made Robbie sad, but he completely understood. He hadn’t even been here for a full year, why should he feel like family? Or maybe he did and it was some other reason that kept her away? Oliver had left Starling City not long after the Undertaking, surprising everyone. Robbie knew why, Oliver had told him, but nothing he’d said could convince him not to go. When Oliver’s feelings were concerned, it was always difficult waters, even for someone like Robbie. He’d become lost in his thoughts, only snapping out of them when his stomach growled menacingly. It had been a while since he’d experienced hunger like this, which wasn’t a pleasant thought. Diggle was right, he needed a break. He backtracked, following the way to the kitchen when he heard a knock at the front door. The staff had been reduced since Moira’s arrest so Robbie knew nobody would answer it. He was tempted to ignore it, but he imagined the disapproving faces of his parents and couldn’t. He opened the door, feeling a blast of cool outside air.

“Hi Robbie.”

It was Laurel Lance. She looked him up and down. Robbie only just remembered he was still in his sleep clothes, it must be nearly midday.

“Can I come in” she asked.

Once again, his parent’s faces motivated his manners.

“Of course” he replied, stepping aside to let her in.

She entered and took in the sight of the entrance hall. It was the same as it usually was, but maybe she sensed the emptiness of the rest of the house because she looked slightly forlorn. He closed the door, not knowing what to say. He’d only spoken with Laurel a few times, and only then in the company of other people. He waited for her to make that first move.

“Is Oliver back yet?” she asked.

“No, he’s not.”

“So is Thea home?”

“Nope.”

“You’re all alone here?” she asked, shocked.

Robbie nodded.

“Thea doesn’t spend that much time here anymore, and with Oliver away and Moira, well, you know where she is, why would anyone else be here?”

“I was hoping one of them would be here. This makes things so much harder” Laurel said to herself, rummaging in her bag.

“What’s this about?” he asked.

Laurel stopped, considered for a moment, and then looked back up at him.

“Can we go somewhere more comfortable, I have a lot to say?”

He led her through to the living room and they both took a seat. She took some forms from her bag and put them on the coffee table between them. Robbie eyed them suspiciously.

“What’s going on?”

“It seems there’s been a bit of oversight regarding your custody arrangement.”

“My custody arrangement?”

Those words all sounded odd to him.

“Yes. When Moira made you a ward of the Queen family, child services were a bit confused since you weren’t in their system. They let it slide because at least you were with a family. But then, obviously, Moira was taken into custody. Normally in situations where the custodial parent becomes unfit, the child would be put back into the system, but given that you were never in the system, this didn’t happen.”

Robbie had followed that, but was still confused.

“Ok, so why did you need Oliver or Thea?”

“CPS has agreed that given the circumstances, you can remain a ward of the Queen family for the time being, as long as they have the consent of one of the other adult members of this household, so Oliver or Thea.”

Robbie nodded his understanding. He indicated the forms on the table.

“And those are?”

“Oliver or Thea just need to sign those and submit them with CPS to declare their consent.”

Robbie pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. This was just what he needed. So much for a break.

“Are you okay?” Laurel asked, concerned.

“I haven’t been sleeping all that well. What did you mean, for the time being?”

She paused briefly before answering.

“This agreement is only until Moira’s trial. If she’s found innocent, then the original arrangement will be upheld, but if not” she said.

She didn’t need to say more, Robbie knew where she was going with it. He leant back in his seat, thinking about what to do. He should go to Thea, have her sign them. She was an adult after all. But she was also only two years older than him; it didn’t make sense to him that she could be his legal guardian. He sighed again. He felt a hand on his knee. Laurel had leaned over, trying to comfort him.

“It’s going to be fine Robbie.”

“I know” he said half-heartedly.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

She looked concerned, for which Robbie was touched. Yet for all of her good intentions, he could feel something else inside her.

“Never mind me, are you alright?”

He could see it in her face. Cracks had formed, even if only slightly, like she was desperately trying to hold something back. She smiled, though how sincere it was Robbie couldn’t entirely be sure.

“I’m getting there.”

She made her goodbyes once Robbie promised he’d get one of the Queen’s to sign the papers. As she was leaving, she turned once again to talk to Robbie.

“If you need anything…” she started.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine” Robbie cut her off, smiling so she wouldn’t worry.

She smiled back and left. He closed the door, resting his head against the cool wood. He tried relaxing some of the tension that had been building in him. He failed.

 

Their attentions were drawn away from the monitors by a small snapping sound. Felicity glanced behind her, seeing Robbie rush to join them by the screens. Various police reports were being displayed, as well as a live news feed.

“We’ve been trying to call you for an hour” Diggle said, half annoyed.

“You told me to get some rest, so I did” Robbie shot back, studying the screens quickly.

“And did you?” Diggle asked.

“Yes.”

“Liar.”

“Guys, never mind that now” Felicity interjected.

“What’s going on?” Robbie asked.

“Group of armed people tried robbing a grocery store. Before the police could do anything, a group of those copycat hoods arrived. Now, we’ve basically got a three way siege between the cops, copycats and crooks” she rattled off with practised efficiency.

“The robbers took hostages, so they should be priority” Diggle started.

“But if I move against them, the copycats might think the hostages are being attacked” Robbie finished.

“How are you going to play this?” Felicity asked.

Robbie shook his head. He turned and walked away. He flicked out his arm, with a small flash of turquoise light. A short distance in front of him, a thin ring of turquoise energy appeared with a snap. The edge seemed to shift and distort, like it wasn’t entirely in focus. Through the ring was not the Foundry, but instead what looked like a rooftop. She could hear sirens in the distance through it. Robbie had said he’d been working on his portals, but it was still weird to see it, difficult for her to wrap her analytical brain around. Robbie stepped through it and the ring closed, leaving her and Diggle alone in the Foundry.

 

He was careful. He was quiet. He slipped into store with no problem. None of the three sides knew he was there. He moved, always alert. Fortunately, the aisles provided sufficient cover. Felicity had hacked the surveillance systems and was feeding him information.

“Looks like the copycats have four guys on the main entrance to stop the cops, so there should be another three” Felicity spoke into his ear.

“How many robbers?”

“I count four, but there may have been others disguised as civilians” Diggle chimed in.

“Hostages?”

“Six, possibly seven.”

Robbie poked his head around a corner and saw chaos. There were shelves and boxes all over the place. He could see bullet casings, as well as the mess of food that had been hit. He heard movement. A man moved out from an aisle to take a position behind an overturned display case. He had a gun trained on a door at the end, in the corner of the room.

“You’re there. It looks like the three copycats are using the aisles and other things like cover” Diggle observed.

“The robbers are through that door. According to the building plan, that’s a storeroom. It’s also where they’ve got the hostages” Felicity added.

Robbie thought quickly. He couldn’t attack the robbers in case the copycats thought they were executing hostages. He couldn’t let the copycats get away because they were almost as bad as the robbers at this point. Making up his mind, he stood quickly and climbed on top of the shelf. He focussed slightly, reaching out to make a slight manipulation. He smiled when the lights in the store flickered ominously. It was a simple trick, but it often worked. The copycats looked around nervously, but nonetheless stayed focussed on the door.

“Stop what you’re doing” Robbie said.

His voice seemed to echo all around. The copycats jumped in surprise. They looked around frantically, before seeing Robbie looking down on them. He was ready for them to shoot, fully expecting it actually. One of the copycats jabbed a finger at the other two.

“Focus on the hostages, I got this” he ordered, before barking into a radio, “stay at the doors. We’ve got a new player.”

He stepped from his cover, training his gun on Robbie.

“Kid, you need to leave now!” he said sternly, clearly trying to intimidate.

“No, you need to drop the guns.”

“We’re trying to save those people in there!”

“One group of people is going to end up shot: it’ll you, them, the hostages or the police.”

“Not if you and the cops stay out of our way” the copycat said, readying himself.

“This is your last chance to walk away” Robbie offered.

“My sentiment to you” the copycat responded.

“Very well.”

Robbie jumped from the shelf at the copycats as the man fired a shot. Robbie had been ready for it, deflecting the bullet in a flash of yellow light. He landed and grabbed the gun, twisting it quickly and violently from the man’s grip. It skidded across the floor as Robbie delivered a quick kick to the gut, dropping the man to his knees. The other copycats turned away from the door to help their comrade. They fired at Robbie who darted into an aisle to avoid it. He opened a portal to the next aisle over, leaping through it. His sudden appearance where they hadn’t expected him caught the copycats off guard. One had went to help his comrade, but turned as Robbie rushed him. He grappled him, using his momentum drive a kick across the other copycats face to stop him getting up. He twisted, focussing, allowing the energy to help throw the copycat from him and into the wall. He sensed more movement and turned to face the last of the copycats. The copycat fired. Robbie readied his stance and thrust out his hand. Yellow energy streamed from it, forming a translucent circle in front of him, the perfect shield to stop the bullets. Though the copycat was wearing a mask, Robbie could sense fear in him. It was either fear in him, or a nagging feeling that Robbie was missing something. He cried out, a sharp pain in his leg wrenched at his attention. The copycat he’d thrown into the wall, still on the ground, had stabbed a knife into the back of his leg. He pushed, blasting his shield forward into the shooter bodily, before twisting around. He grabbed the knife wielders arm, stopping him from driving the blade deeper, before striking him hard. The copycat went limp, unconscious. Adrenaline coursed through his body, that combined with discipline stopped him feeling the pain. He charged at the last copycat, who was on his feet at the end of an aisle. The copycat tried to rise, but Robbie slammed his knee into his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Robbie left him struggling to breath, becoming more and more aware of his leg as he turned his attention to the robbers and the hostages.

 

He blasted the door open, knowing full well that the robbers inside would open fire immediately. Their shots hit nothing, nobody stood in the door. There was silence. Robbie could feel their agitation. He waited a fraction longer before stepping through the door. They fired again. He made a new shield, holding his ground. He just had to wait a little longer. The clicks of empty weapons filled the storeroom. He saw panic on the faces of the crooks, but didn’t let them try and reload or find a new weapon. He was quick, his motions fluid. His shield broke, reforming two smaller circles to join his hands as they swept apart, before he swung both hands up. Yellow ribbons bound the robbers and they were pulled to the ceiling. Robbie could feel his exhaustion from the past weeks catching up with him. It was strain.

“Go!” he yelled at the hostages, not meaning to sound harsh, but struggling with the effort.

The hostages snapped back to their senses and dashed from the room, carefully skirting around Robbie as they went. He counted seven, as described. As the last was leaving, his arms dropped to his sides, his breathing heavy. The robbers also dropped roughly to the floor. There were four, as Diggle had said. Three of them rose to their feet, scared but ready to fight. Robbie readied himself as well, prepared for a lot of healing when this was all done.

 

Quentin remained focussed on the situation in front of him. He could see one of the copycat hoods through the glass of the storefront. His fellow officers were stood around him, just as tense but just as focussed as well. They’d heard gunshots, not a good sign, but they couldn’t approach because of the copycats in front of them. More gunshots, and the copycat he could see left his position. He could have just been moving somewhere else, but other officers reported the same thing with the other three. The copycats were pulling back, but why? A million different scenarios ran through his head, but only one kept coming back again and again. Vigilantes. But nobody had seen the hood in months. He was sure the ghost was still around as they heard reports that matched his description from time to time, but the other officers were sceptical. But the lights in the store had flickered, that was consistent with reports of the ghost. He was wrenched from his thoughts as he saw people approaching the doors. He readied himself. Civilians, with their arms in the air, burst from the store. Police carefully came forward to escort them away, when Quentin and the other officers got the go ahead. They entered the store, clearing it an aisle at a time. Quentin thought he could hear smashing. Was that a grunt of pain? Maybe whichever vigilante was here was still fighting. He kept his eyes open. So far, no arrows. They approached the back corner of the store, seeing three unconscious people, guns by their sides. Officers moved to secure them, when there was a loud crash from the open room just ahead. Quentin raised his gun at the door. The silence was unnerving. From the room emerged a figure. The officers held their shots. He was young, a teenager. He dragged somebody else across the floor, probably one of the robbers that had started all of this, holding him up by his collar. The robber grunted in pain, still conscious but unable to stop himself being pulled along. It was the ghost. But to Quentin, he looked different. His attire was unkempt, not as it usually was. He saw blood from a wound on his leg, his left sleeve had been torn as though cut with a knife, and he sported a sizable bruise on his face. He was breathing heavily. The officers all stood there, unsure what to do. The rumours that had been flying around the station were true. The ghost tossed the robber forward, who landed a short distance in front of him with another grunt of pain.

“He’s all yours” the ghost said, not quite with his usual whispery, hissing quality.

“Don’t move!” one officer shouted, finding the courage from somewhere.

He stepped forward, but the ghost reacted in an instant. He swept his arms around. As he did so, there was a snap, a turquoise ring growing behind him. He leapt backwards through it, and just like that he was gone. Quentin looked around at his other officers, who were all stood in shock.

“Well come on then, we have a building to clear!” he ordered.

 

Robbie arrived back in the Foundry, landing hard on the ground from his backwards jump from police. Now he was lying on his front on a table, Felicity looking at the damage to his sleeve while Diggle cleaned up his leg. Every now and then he would breathe sharply but wouldn’t otherwise react to the pain. That wasn’t bothering him so much now, it was his heavy eyelids that were annoying him.

“I could just heal myself you know” he said, propping himself up to look back at Diggle.

Diggle ignored him and finished cleaning the wound, grabbing a nearby bandage.

“If you were in any state to heal yourself, you wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place.”

Diggle wrapped the bandage with practised hands. Robbie didn’t protest.

“What happened in there?” Felicity asked, holding an ice pack which Robbie took.

The cold stung as he held it to his face, but it was soothing nonetheless.

“Everything went according to plan, except for one thing. Me.”

Diggle finished, securing the bandage. Robbie moved to a more comfortable sitting position.

“I was, sloppy. I made mistakes. I let my guard down.”

Robbie looked down, not wanting to catch their eyes.

“I can’t keep this up.”

He glanced up, seeing Felicity and Diggle sharing a look.

“No, you can’t” Diggle said, not unkindly.

“But what are we going to do?” Felicity asked.

Robbie had also been thinking about that question. It was obvious to him now that until he recovered properly, he wouldn’t be much use to anyone. With everything that had happened, where the city was currently, where he was currently, he could only think of one answer.

“We need Oliver” he said.

“I agree, but we don’t know where he is” Diggle responded.

Robbie let out a sigh.

“I do.”

Felicity looked shocked.

“And you were planning on telling us, when exactly?”

“Oliver left to be alone. I didn’t want to intrude on that for no reason.”

“Where is he?” Diggle asked.

Robbie took a deep breath before answering.

“Lian Yu.”

He squeezed his hands together, focussing hard.

“And how are we going to get there? Does he have a phone or some… what are you doing?” Felicity started to ask, before being distracted by the glow around Robbie’s hands.

He opened his hands and showed them. It was a small crystal, about the size of a golf ball. Its outside was a deep purple, but there was a turquoise glow coming from the inside. He held it out to them, almost dropping it as he rocked forward. Felicity caught the gem as Diggle caught him.

“Woah, easy Robbie” Diggle said, easing from the table and to a chair.

Felicity was examining the gem carefully, unsure what to make of it.

“That will take you to Oliver. You need to get him to come back.”

He could feel sleep coming for him, he could resist it no longer. He thought of Oliver and how the city needed him. He thought of his life, the papers sat in the living room at the Queen Mansion, how they could potentially ruin everything for him. He didn’t want to leave, to be taken away by well-meaning officials to be placed with a well-meaning family who would never be able to understand him.

“What if he doesn’t want to come back?” Diggle asked.

“He has to” Robbie heard himself say, as he drifted off.

He has to, for this city’s sake. And mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long chapter, possibly should have been two, but I wasn't sure where to cut it.
> 
> Any feedback would be greatly appreciated.


	24. Rest for the Weary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2x01 - 2x03

_“What is this place” he asked._

_He was led across a courtyard surrounded by tall marble pillars polished to a mirror shine and ornately carved. Beyond the pillars he could see nothing. Not for lack of trying though. A thick fog veiled everything outside of the courtyard. It reminded him uncomfortably of the funeral and the cliff._

_“Where am I?”_

_The two people he was with said nothing. They wore robes of white material, with hoods pulled low so he could not see their faces. They were not the person he’d seen in the column; they did not have the fire in their eyes. The two exchanged a glance. Robbie tried not to panic. Wherever this was, it wasn’t home._

_“We said we would help you.”_

_The voice was old and croaky. It caught Robbie by surprise, not that he’d known what to expect when they started talking. The person to whom it belonged must have been old; they were stooped and their movements more frail._

_“Help me do what?”_

_Why had he not thought to ask this before stepping off a cliff?_

_“To be so much more than you are now” the croaky voice said._

_“But first” the second person said, his voice much harsher with a noticeable accent, “we must see if you are worth it.”_

_The man moved. He must have been younger; his movements were much more assured. Robbie didn’t know what to expect. Was he going to be beaten? Whatever it was, his focus was on the younger man, and that was his first mistake. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the older man move like new life had been breathed into him. Robbie braced as best he could, but all he felt was pain._

Robbie jerked awake, trying his best to make no noise. It would not do for people to hear his nightmares. His best wasn’t good enough, his muffled scream echoed dully around the foundry. Taking several slow, deep breaths, he calmed himself down. It had been a while since he’d dreamed like that. It was mostly why he didn’t like sleep much. He didn’t like being reminded of that time. Getting his first taste of magic, the pain that came with it, he’d been sure that he was going to die. But he didn’t. The two stopped. They agreed that he had potential, Robbie guessed because hadn’t died, and so began his new life. The Foundry was dark. Diggle and Felicity had left hours ago, though he only dimly remembered it, Diggle throwing the gem, the faint of snap of the portal as it opened and then the small whoosh as it closed behind them. No doubt, they had found Oliver by now, and hopefully were convincing him to come home. It would be difficult, Robbie knew that. Oliver had slipped away from everyone, but not him, Robbie had caught him. He had told Robbie exactly why he was leaving, and why he felt he couldn’t come back. If Robbie had been more naïve regarding Oliver’s spectacular ability to brood, he would have tried to convince him otherwise. Instead, he’d let him go. His right arm tremored, focussing Robbie’s attention. It hadn’t done that in a long time. He must have really been over doing it.

_“Don’t go too far too fast. Greater men than you have been burned by going too hard.”_

He could hear that harsh voice just as clearly now as back then. He needed to sleep, properly. Yes, he would dream, but right now he was no good to anyone. He needed to recharge.

_“It will come with time. How far you can go, for how long, all of it will improve.”_

The croaky voice was also clear to him. He pushed both voices away, clearing his head. The portal took him straight to his room. He changed out of his gear into more comfortable sleep clothes and practically passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

 

Oliver had been away for only six months, but somehow his city had descended so far. He didn’t want to think of all the people he’d failed to save from Malcolm Merlyn, he’d ran away to Lian Yu specifically because of that, but seeing the slums, the ruined buildings, the people begging for help, it was all a bit too much. He would handle it. He always did. As they left the city for the Queen mansion, the troubles seemed to fade. The effects of the Undertaking became less apparent, until it seemed that nothing had happened at all. As they drove down the lane leading to his home, you could almost forgive someone for thinking that all was right with the world. They pulled up and Oliver, for one brief selfish moment, thought that this was normal, and he liked it. Then he entered the house, and reality was thrust in his face. This wasn’t normal. The house was exactly as he remembered it, but there were no staff bustling about, no Thea being loud and obnoxious, no warm smile from his mother. His mother. She was someone else he didn’t want to think about too much. Thankfully, she had done the right thing and warned people to get out of the Glades, saving who knows how many people who would otherwise have died. If he didn’t have that thought, he guessed he would be a lot more like Thea. The house was empty. Robbie should be here. They’d swung by the Foundry and found no-one there. Oliver checked the living room. No Robbie. There was a small pile of papers on the table which drew his eye. They looked official. He saw they were stamped with the court seal. He flicked over them. Several words jumped out at him: custody, ward, child protective services. He didn’t like the look of this. Hopefully Robbie would be able to clear up what they were when he found him. Diggle had said that Robbie needed rest, that he’d exhausted himself trying to keep the streets together. Something else for Oliver to be guilty about. Carefully, he pushed open the door to Robbie’s room. There he was, curled up on the bed, fast asleep. Oliver winced slightly seeing the light bruise on his cheek. Robbie stirred, opening his eyes blearily. Ever the light sleeper, Oliver thought.

“Oliver?” he said when he finally laid eyes on him.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

A huge smile stretched across Robbie’s face.

“It’s good to see you.”

“And you.”

“You don’t have to feel guilty Oliver.”

Oliver frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re feeling guilty that you left and I had to handle the city on my own.”

Was Oliver really such an open book?

“I’m guilty, because I disturbed you when you needed rest.”

This was true, and it was much easier to say than the actual reason he felt guilty. Or should that be reasons because lord knows he has many. Oliver left the room, but sure enough, as he thought he would, Robbie followed. He was trying to rub the sleep from his eyes but failing miserably. He settled for following Oliver into the living room.

“You should be in bed Robbie.”

“No, I’m up, I’m up.”

Robbie sat on one of the couches and curled up. If he didn’t speak, Oliver could have thought he’d fallen asleep again.

“Have you seen Thea?”

“Yeah, I swung by Verdant. She’s doing very well for herself.”

“Good.”

Oliver gestured to the papers on the table. Robbie looked at them then looked away.

“You’ve seen them then.”

“I have. Didn’t read them line by line, but I think I got the gist.”

Robbie prompted him to keep going, clearly not believing that he’d read them.

“It looks like if I don’t sign it, then CPS comes and takes you away because you are not yet a legal adult. That about it?”

Robbie nodded.

“Could Thea not have signed them?”

“She could, but I only got them yesterday.”

Oliver didn’t need to think twice. He pulled a pen from his suit jacket and found the dotted line. It wasn’t his best signature, but then he had been five years out of practice at signing things. Robbie watched him, not giving anything away. If Oliver had to guess, he’d say that Robbie was happy to stay.

“Congratulations, you are now my legal guardian” Robbie said, smirking.

“Then as your legal guardian, I have the authority to send you to bed.”

Robbie continued smirking but Oliver kept his face set. Eventually, Robbie realised he wasn’t joking.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah seriously.”

“Oliver I’m fine.”

“Robbie, you can barely keep your eyes open and don’t think I haven’t noticed the tremor.”

Robbie clutched his right arm. It was subtle, most people wouldn’t have noticed, but Oliver wasn’t most people. He knew that Robbie must have pushed himself far beyond if his arm was tremoring.

“Yes I feel guilty that you had to step in when I left, so you can help assuage my guilt by resting” Oliver said.

Robbie sighed. He nodded and slowly got to his feet, but didn’t start walking.

“Go, or there’ll be no supper” Oliver said.

“Now that’s too far with the dad thing” Robbie said, smiling at the joke as he walked away nonetheless.

 

He hated this. He hated not being able to do anything. Every time he opened his eyes, they protested and wanted to close again. He could barely stay awake for longer than an hour. He hadn’t felt exhaustion like this for years. Damn it, he should have seen this coming. This continued for a week, until Robbie found himself back in the Foundry, finally able to make it through a day without nodding off. Diggle and Felicity were discussing things as he walked towards them. They stopped talking, though Robbie knew it wasn’t because they were talking about him. Felicity greeted him warmly, Diggle merely nodded his head and smiled. A news report was playing on the screen, something about a particle accelerator that was close to being turned on. Felicity saw him looking at it.

“It’s cool, right? I’m tempted to go and see it, but I doubt I’d get time off.”

“Pretty cool” Robbie nodded.

“They say it’s going to revolutionise particle physics, who knows what weird stuff they’ll find” Felicity continued, venting her obvious enthusiasm onto Robbie.

Diggle chuckled. He guessed that this was what they were talking about before he’d come in.

“If I wanted to see weird stuff, I wouldn’t go to Central City” Robbie said.

He flexed his arms. After a week of inaction, he needed to be doing something.

“How’re you feeling? Better?” Diggle asked.

“Definitely better than I was.”

This was true, but Robbie knew he wasn’t 100% yet. Not that he’d tell them that. They’d only tell him he needed more rest. He would never have previously described himself as restless, but there’s only so much sleep that a person can get before they start going mad.

“You sure?” Diggle asked.

“Yes” was all he replied.

Diggle didn’t push it further. Oliver’s bow was missing from its holder. He must be out on a mission.

“Oh my god!”

Felicity began typing with an urgency he hadn’t seen in a while. Information darted across the screens; the news broadcast was drowned out in favour of security footage. She was hitting the keys so hard that Robbie was sure that one day they would break. Both he and Diggle scanned the screens for what had sent Felicity into this frenzy, though it immediately became obvious. The footage was of the district attorney’s office. Oliver was stood surrounded by SWAT officers, all of whom had their laser sights on him.

“Robbie…”

Diggle didn’t get further than that. There was a burst of motion; a woman dropped down from the ceiling and held out a glowing device. They couldn’t tell exactly what was happening, but by the looks of the officers (they were all clutching their ears) it must have been some kind of sonic device. Glass shattered, and the woman urged Oliver to move, which he did. They got out of the building as the officers regained their composure and fired on them. Felicity shut off the feed, looking to the other two, a deep frown on her face. Diggle was more masked than that, but there was still some kind of intensity in his eyes as he looked at where the feed had been.

“What was that?” Felicity asked, if only to break the silence.

She pulled the footage up again and played it, pulling out frames that she thought important. Her landing, the device, the effect it had, getting Oliver to move. Robbie watched these. She seemed practised, rehearsed, well trained. Felicity was trying to sharpen the images but there was only so much to do. What stood out about the woman was the white blonde hair. It was the only thing which stood out, everything else was black.

“A new player perhaps?” Diggle said, finally speaking.

“I would have said China White, you know, white hair and all, but why would she care about saving Oliver from the police? She would be happy if he was taken off the board” Felicity said, giving up on adjusting the images.

“Let’s wait for Oliver” Robbie said.

Oliver was the one who’d interacted with this person, whoever they were. He would have a better guess at the situation. They didn’t have to wait long before Oliver walked into the Foundry, stowing his bow, not saying a word. The three of them exchanged looks. Who was going to say something?”

“You were watching.”

It wasn’t a question, simply a statement, but they all nodded anyway.

“That was close” Diggle said.

Oliver nodded.

“I’m sorry, Oliver, I should’ve…”

“Don’t” Oliver interrupted him, jabbing a finger at him, “they would have ambushed me with or without you being there.”

“All the same” Robbie said, letting the subject drop.

Oliver didn’t push it any further either. He held his hands behind his back, looking at Felicity.

“Have you found anything about her?” he asked.

“No. I tried isolating some frames to see if I could get a facial match, but nothing was clear.”

“What happened Oliver?” Diggle asked.

“I met with Laurel.”

Diggle rolled his eyes slightly, a subtle motion that Robbie caught. Judging by the slight frown on Oliver’s face, he’d caught it too.

“Next thing I know the SWAT team was there.”

“And the woman?”

“She dropped through the skylight. She had some kind of sonic weapon. It took out the windows.”

“Did she say anything? Why she helped you?”

“Nope. I did ask, but she got out of there pretty quick.”

There was a pause before Oliver changed the subject.

“What about Chien Na Wei and her new associate?”

“She’s off the grid for now. I’m searching but it’ll take time” Felicity said.

Oliver nodded. He turned back to the case and pulled his bow back out.

“You’re going back out?” Robbie asked.

“Yes” was Oliver’s simple reply.

“Then I’m going to.”

“No you are not.”

He was facing Robbie fully, bow in hand.

“You still need to rest” he said.

“I need to get out. I’m going crazy doing nothing.”

“And I understand that, but until you’re back on your feet properly, you’re not going back into the field” Oliver said.

Robbie gestured to himself.

“Look, back on my feet. No tremor. I’m fine.”

Oliver said nothing. There was an uncomfortable silence before he grabbed Robbie by the collar and threw him to the floor. Robbie hadn’t expected it, but rolled back to his feet, stumbling only slightly. Oliver bore down on him, swinging his bow hard. Robbie ducked under it, blocking a kick. Oliver swung again, bringing his fist up to meet Robbie’s block. He slammed his bow against it and forced Robbie back. Robbie braced, halting the push, but Oliver turned the push into a grab, rolling backwards and throwing Robbie again. Robbie rolled, stumbling, but this time he didn’t block quickly enough. The bow struck him across the face. He didn’t go completely down, but it was enough. Oliver held out a hand which Robbie took. Diggle and Felicity looked aghast.

“If you were fine, you would have fought harder.”

Robbie didn’t meet his eyes. Damn him, and damn himself. Oliver was right.

“Robbie, you are going to go home…” Oliver started.

“Oliver I mean it. I need to be doing something!”

Oliver glared, shutting him up.

“You are going to go home and rest, properly. Then tomorrow, you can start.”

Robbie cocked an eyebrow.

“Start what?” he asked.

Oliver gestured back to the computer screens. The image of the woman was still there.

“We need to know who she is. Between Queen Consolidated, mom’s trial and being the Arrow…”

“Odd choice of name by the way” Robbie slid in.

“… I won’t be able to do it.”

“I thought you asked Roy to be your eyes and ears on the streets?” Diggle asked.

“I did, but about her, all he’ll get are rumours and speculation. But you, you can find out more.”

Robbie said nothing. He was waiting for the ‘but’ which he knew was coming. Eventually though, he gave up.

“Ok. I’m going” he said as he turned to leave.

Oliver grabbed his arm, bringing him back around to facing him.

“But Robbie, I don’t want this to impact your recovery. That is your first priority. Whatever you find, you report back to me. If you find her, you let me know. You do not engage. Am I clear?”

Though his expression was neutral, Robbie could see the intensity in his eyes. This look was serious, brooking no dissent. When exactly over the five years Oliver had picked this look up, Robbie didn’t know, but he felt sorry for any businessmen who found themselves in it. Oliver was waiting for an answer, so Robbie nodded. Oliver let his arm go and left the Foundry, heading back out into the night. Robbie felt the weariness clawing at him again. He sighed and went back home. Like had happened so many times this past week, he was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, and like those times, memories flashed unwelcomed into his dreams.

 

_The pain stopped, the lights faded and Robbie was curled on the stone floor. The two men were looking down on him, speaking in a language that he didn’t recognise, though he thought they sounded surprised. He tried settling his breathing, but failed. What was that? The younger man left and the older man knelt beside him. With a surprising strength, he picked Robbie up, putting him back on his feet. Robbie flinched away from the man, but he didn’t seem fazed by this. Robbie shot an accusing glare at him._

_“What are you?”_

_There was no need for niceties. This man had tortured him! The man chuckled slightly._

_“I am a master of an ancient art. One we shall show to you in time.”_

_“I don’t want anything from you!”_

_“Oh but you do, or you wouldn’t have taken that step. You are rather young, younger than acolytes tend to come, but you are definitely worthy of it.”_

_“You’re sure of that?”_

_“You’re still here” was all the man said._

_He stepped aside, gesturing to beyond the ring of marble pillars. Robbie blinked. The fog had lifted. He was stood before a large stone building. Was it a castle? No, it didn’t look like it. It reminded him of the monastery he’d visited with school, but there were other things that were more like the temples he’d seen pictures of._

_“Welcome, Robbie Gray, to the college.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can only apologise for the lack of updates. I know I said I would update this more regularly now that uni has finished for the summer, but between holidays, volunteering and a bout of creativity for something else, this work was buried beneath everything.
> 
> Any and all feedback is, as always, greatly appreciated.


	25. Pulling Threads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2x03

It took two more days for Robbie to feel something more like himself. He’d done as Oliver had told him; went to bed, rested, ate properly, as well as some other things which Oliver wouldn’t have thought of. Meditation was a skill, one which Robbie had taught Oliver, to a degree. He’d learned long ago that it could help direct his energies to different things, and right now he needed to return to form. Stepping out onto the rooftop, clad in his suit, feeling the wind brush through his hair, Robbie felt alive again. He really did hate the whole bed rest thing. The street below him was fairly busy considering the lateness of the hour. He was waiting for one particular person, and sure enough, there he was, easily spottable in his red hoodie. Robbie dropped into an alleyway. When he saw the hoodie pass the entrance, he smashed a bottle and gave a cry for help, manipulating his voice so it sounded like a distressed young woman. It carried down the alley and out into the street. The people kept on walking, nobody turned to see what was going on, the people of Starling City didn’t do that, but Roy did. Like clockwork, the young man looked down the alley, trying to find the source of the cry. All he saw was Robbie, who beckoned him forward. Oliver had said that Roy would only have rumours and speculation, and this was true, but Robbie needed to know what was being said about the mystery woman before he could begin.

“Was that you screaming?”

He glanced around, trying to see if there had actually been something wrong. Ever the hero you are, Roy Harper, he thought.

“In a manner of speaking. I have questions for you.”

“Where’s your friend” Roy asked, crossing his arms.

“Am I not enough for you?”

“No” he said quickly, obviously thinking he’d been rude, “it’s just I usually see the other guy.”

“He’s busy at the moment.”

This was true. Lance had called asking for Oliver’s help, something about a convict who’d escaped from prison during the Undertaking, someone who had killed several young women and turned them into ‘living’ china dolls. His skin crawled just thinking about it.

“I need information.”

Roy looked intrigued.

“About what?”

“There’s a woman in the city who likes to drop through skylights to save vigilantes from SWAT teams…”

“What wait?”

“I need to know if you’ve heard about anything similar, because I highly doubt she came to town to do just that” Robbie said, ignoring the interruption.

Roy took a moment to collect his thoughts. Robbie could see him trying to process what he was being asked.

“The hood was attacked by SWATs?” he asked.

“He prefers the Arrow.”

“Why?” Roy asked, clearly amused by the name.

“You’d have to ask him.”

“I suppose it’s appropriate” Roy mused.

Robbie fixed him with a glare, making Roy falter slightly.

“Did she have light hair, like a blond or something?”

“Yes, and a black le…”

“Leather jacket, yeah I know who you mean.”

Roy ran his hand through his hair and Robbie prompted him to continue.

“I was coming home one day. I saw these guys with a girl. They were trying to, well I don’t really care what they were trying to do but they weren’t letting her go. I tried to fight them off but they had a knife. Then she showed up out of nowhere, beat them up and disappeared.”

Robbie considered for a moment, taking in the information.

“You’re trying to find her?”

Robbie nodded.

“Do you know of anything else? Any other attacks she’s made, any other beat downs?” he asked.

“I’m not sure” Roy said, though concern flashed on his face, “is she dangerous?”

“A lot of people are” was all that Robbie said as he turned to leave.

He went straight back to the Foundry. There was no way this woman had only intervened in one mugging attempt, apart from saving Oliver. The police would have recorded any attacks she’d made, though he doubted whether they could tell the difference between her and the other Starling vigilantes. Maybe if Lance was still investigating, but then he had been obsessive over it. Felicity was typing away, blissfully unaware he’d entered the room until he cleared his throat. She smiled at him and continued typing.

“How’s Oliver and Lance coming along?” he asked her.

“They’re doing alright, though it’s like they keep running into brick walls.”

She turned to face him as he sat beside her.

“And how are things on your end?”

“I may have something. Could you please look through the police database for me?”

A few key commands and it appeared on a screen.

“What am I looking for?”

“Any assaults in the last few months with multiple victims and one reported perpetrator. The victims would most likely have criminal records and also possibly in the process of committing some kind of crime.”

Felicity typed in the requirements. Many of the entries were highlighted and Robbie recognised most of them. They were his and Oliver’s handiwork. Felicity seemed to read this thought and continued typing. Suddenly, the many highlighted entries were replaced by only eight. He scanned through each of them. All but two involved crimes against a woman, though all read as attempted mugging, assault or worse being stopped by a lone actor. All but one involved people with some form of criminal record. Each had been classified by the police as the work of a known Starling City vigilante, either the hood or the ghost. Felicity read them as well.

“You think these are all hers?”

“Well they’re not ours, so who else could they be?”

Felicity nodded her agreement.

“So what’s your plan?” she asked.

“I think I’m going to have a chat with one of these people” he replied, indicating one of the people in the reports.

“Oliver told you not to engage” she warned him.

“Relax, it’ll just be a chat.”

 

“Eric Brass!”

The man shuddered at the harsh voice in his ear. Robbie relished the effect it had as he pinned the man against the chain link fence. Eric Brass hadn’t even seen him. He’d left a club only a few minutes before, Robbie didn’t much care where he was going. As he passed the fence, he’d struck. Ribbons of shimmering yellow light had snaked through gaps in the links and grabbed his wrists, before pulling him back into the fence. He was now forcibly stood with his arms splayed wide. The magic binding his wrists like rope led back to Robbie, who held both ends in his hand. Robbie inched forward, reaching his free hand out. Just before he made contact with the metal of the fence, tiny blue sparks danced between his fingers. Brass froze, the magic keeping him in place.

“We need to talk.”

“What is this?” Brass said, Robbie could see the muscles in his neck twitching like he was trying to dart his head left and right; then as though a practised instinct took over, he said “I swear I didn’t do anything.”

“Two weeks ago, you and a friend had a run in with a woman. She beat you and a police report was filed.”

“How’d you know about that?”

“I need to know what you did that got her attention.”

Brass said nothing so Robbie let the energy flow a little less carefully. It arced out, bursting out a nearby streetlight. If Brass could have flinched, he would have done.

“Start talking!”

“Alright, alright. We were just walking home from the bar, me and my buddy, we’d had a few beers, we were wasted. My buddy Greg, he’s an idiot. He somehow manages to lose all our cash so we couldn’t get a cab. Then we see this girl with a purse, and it looked like a really nice purse, so Greg says we should take it. I was like no man, but he went and did it anyway.”

Another arc of energy and the man whimpered.

“You’re lying! I don’t like lies!”

“Ok, I was the one who grabbed the purse. She put up a fight though, had pepper spray or something. She got Greg with it and he just lost it, started swinging his fists all over the place. Next thing I know, this blonde girl appears out of nowhere and we were fighting. She had some moves.”

He stopped talking, breathing rapidly. Robbie considered for a moment. He’d guessed that this woman would rush to the defence of other women. How could he use that to find her?

“Look man, I just told you the truth. You gonna let me go?”

“Did she say anything to you?”

“Not really, just told me not hurt that girl again. She seemed pretty adamant about it.”

Robbie paused.

“I did say I didn’t like lies!”

Robbie loosed more energy but this time he let it run through Brass. He could feel the frozen muscles twitch.

“OK! OK! We weren’t drunk! We didn’t just come across her! We saw her, me and my buddies, with her bag. We wanted what she had, but then she pepper sprayed one of us and things got out of hand. Then the blonde girl came. I swear that’s the truth! Please!” Brass begged.

That was more like it.

“Tell me about the girl.”

“I don’t know. Short hair, acting all like a tomboy or something, what do you want me to tell you!”

He didn’t need to say anything more, Robbie knew who he was talking about. He’d chosen to track down Eddie Brass because his assault came with a witness who said that they weren’t innocent victims. Felicity had dug a little and found out the witness was named Cindy Taylor. She’d found a photo and it matched the description that Brass had just given. He now had a new lead to follow, another thread he could pull. He released Brass, who dropped to his knees as the energy freezing him vanished. Robbie watched him try and rub sensation back into his wrists before heading back to the Foundry.

 

It hadn’t taken long to track Cindy down and she was as tomboyish as Brass had said. Watching from afar, she didn’t seem to move in any particularly dangerous circles, at least for the Glades. In fact, she acted a lot like how Thea described Roy as acting: disdainful for the rich and generally keeping to her own bubble. Robbie followed her, not knowing what to expect and, if he were completely honest with himself, not really expecting much. For Cindy to have any further contact with the female vigilante, she had to be in a position to need it, and from his observations, she didn’t seem the type. The street they were walking along wasn’t particularly busy, enough that he could blend in and not draw attention. She hadn’t noticed. Then she turned her head. It was subtle, not enough to fully look behind her, but enough that she could glance. Robbie had seen Oliver do that many times, he himself had done it many times. It was the art of looking at the world around you while giving nothing away. It came from years of having to do it for survival, or it came from training. Which was it with Cindy, Robbie wondered. Robbie kept walking. If she thought that she was being followed, now that she’d looked, turning away would only confirm that. She glanced again, and again. If she runs, I’m not going to chase, Robbie thought. Sure enough, she did run. She hopped a fence and crossed what looked like an impound lot. Robbie was patient and continued walking. He was onto her now. He could sense her emotions faintly. They were like a trail of breadcrumbs leading him on. He rounded a corner and saw a large clock tower. It looked abandoned. There was scaffolding set up along two walls, but no work had been done on it.

“I may have something, standby” he messaged Felicity.

He’d said to Oliver that he wouldn’t engage in a fight, but he needed to know if his hunch was right. Cindy looked too well kept to be homeless, so why would she go to an old clock tower. The building seemed deserted. The empty hallways had a layer dust, apart from a small, barely visible channel of what looked like footprints. They led to a staircase in the far corner of the building which spiralled up. The sun had started setting, casting everything in a warm orange light. He went up and up, knowing he must be going right to the top. The staircase narrowed halfway, eventually opening out into large space, the top of the tower. He could see the clock face, though the hands were a show; there was no mechanism attached to them. Cautiously, he stepped forward. The space was mostly empty, aside from more scaffolding and plastic sheets. Despite the emptiness, it felt lived in. There was a faint smell of fast food in the air and there was warmth quite unrelated to the setting sun. He took out his phone and started typing.

“I think I’ve found her.”

At least that’s what he would have sent to Felicity. He reacted instinctively to the blur of movement behind him, deflecting a metal pole off his forearm. This only exposed the phone in his other hand however, and the figure in black snatched it from him, delivering a swift kick to the stomach, sending him on his feet. He recovered, rolling back from it and readied himself. There she was, the woman who’d saved Oliver. She was dressed in black leather, with a black mask over her eyes. Now that he could see it, the blonde hair looked a little too fake. It was most likely a wig. But the metal pole in her hand was very real, the dull throb of his arm attested to that. He guessed it probably extended, but it was obviously very comfortable in her hand, judging by the way she too readied herself for a fight, still clutching his phone.

“Did they send you?” she demanded.

He’d said he wouldn’t fight, so maybe he could talk to her instead. He held out a hand, hoping she’d understand, but she whipped the pole. It was fast. Thankfully he reacted quickly enough to pull his hand away. The first swing turned into a second, this time with an advance. He ducked under it, dodging around her until they’d basically swapped places.

“Are you one of them!” she asked.

“I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not” Robbie said, “I just want to talk.”

She didn’t drop her stance. Clearly she was suspicious of him, or more likely the ability to fight he’d shown her. She didn’t flinch when the phone in her hand buzzed, merely inclining her head so she could see the screen while keeping Robbie in full view. Robbie didn’t move. He was in her territory and he didn’t want her to properly attack him. Her eyes flashed briefly, a momentary tension that was gone almost as soon as it arrived. She tossed the phone back to him.

“Don’t come back here” she said.

She stowed her pole and scrambled up the scaffolding, disappearing into the rafters with well-practised movements. Robbie watched her go, and then checked his phone. Whatever she’d seen on it had affected her in some way. Who had tried contacting him? It was Felicity. She’d sent him a message, but why would this send the woman running?

“911. Laurel’s been kidnapped.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would greatly appreciate any feedback anyone might have. This is already a long story and it's only going to get longer. I have no idea when I'll get this finished, especially at the rate I'm going but either way, I hope people enjoy it.


	26. The Other Lance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2x04

The bustle of people, all wearing suits and dresses of various degrees of expense, made Robbie smirk, though he knew he mustn’t. This function was to attract investors to Queen Consolidated. He was only here because it was being held at the Queen mansion and it would have looked weird if he wasn’t there. Him being a ward of the Queen family wasn’t a well known public fact, it had barely been reported on when it happened initially, but the people currently enjoying champagne and finger food were the kind to know these things. Case in point, Isobel Rochev, the moment he’d appeared, had near accosted him, telling him in no uncertain terms that he had to make as good of an impression as Oliver did. As a ward of the Queen family, since the Queen family name was plastered on the building, the decisions of the Queen family, including taking him in, would all be scrutinised. There was certainly something about Rochev that Robbie could see that made her very good at what she did, a streak of intimidation, authority exuding from her. If he hadn’t seen what he’d seen, he may have cowered beneath her. As it happened, he smiled and promised not to bring the Queen family name into disrepute, or at least more than it already was. He picked his way through the crowd, hoping to find somebody he knew. That was the problem, he thought, with moving through rich circles. The networks were wider, but shallower; people being invited not because you wanted to but because it would be rude not to. But Robbie wasn’t going to say anything now.

“Champagne?” a waiter offered him.

Robbie took a glass with a smile and a ‘thank you’ but he had no inclination to drink it. His father hadn’t drank, the depression he’d sank into required no help from a bottle, but after seeing people in Glades passed out on their sofas, or stumbling down a street, any desire to drink had been lost. Checking that no-one was watching, he waved a hand under the glass. The liquid shone very briefly.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not 21 yet.”

Robbie turned to find Laurel walking up to him. She smiled, though Robbie knew better than to trust it. Her being kidnapped by the Doll Maker, while not headline news in and of itself, had been reported in the media. Outwardly, she projected stability, but Robbie could tell she was suffering.

“You are correct, and this isn’t alcohol. It’s some kind of elderflower drink Moira got a while ago” he said.

He cast about for a conversation topic, one that didn’t involve asking her how she was.

“Are you here by yourself?”

“No, I’m here with Sebastian Blood.”

“He’s the Alderman from the Glades, right? The one who everyone wants to run for mayor?”

Laurel nodded.

“You keep up with the news” she said.

“There isn’t much to do out here, and besides, I like to know what’s going on. So where is Mr Blood?” he said, looking around the room.

“He should be here any minute now” Laurel said, also looking for him, “there he is, excuse me.”

She left Robbie to himself, finding a sharply dressed man in the crowd, though Robbie noticed that his suit wasn’t as pristine as everyone else’s. He did say he was a man of the people, Robbie thought. A blur of red stalked passed him, a proper, dignified stalk as Isobel Rochev sped from the room to the entrance hall. Robbie felt her go, wondering only for a moment what was so important when he felt that familiar combination of guilt and brooding. Oliver had finally shown up. He knew Felicity had been getting agitated. A few minutes later, Oliver entered the room with Felicity, talking low. He drifted over to them, hoping to know why he was late, when Laurel and Blood beat him to them. Oliver greeted him with a smile, not wanting to seem rude to Blood, who was discussing guns.

“Gun violence in the Glades has gotten increasingly out of control” Blood said.

Robbie agreed. Though he hadn’t been out in the field since tracking down the mystery woman, he knew that Oliver seemed to be getting shot at more often. Both Felicity and Diggle complained about it in the Foundry. Felicity gave him a small jerk of the head, telling him to follow her, which he did, leaving Oliver to talk.

“We haven’t had a chance to discuss what happened the other day. Did you find anything?” she asked in a low voice.

Robbie checked for eavesdroppers. Fortunately, everyone else seemed invested in whatever conversations they were having.

“I did” he said, keeping his voice low just in case.

“And?”

“I have a location and I may have nearly been in a fight with her” he said the last part as quickly as he could, but Felicity still caught it.

“Wait you fought her? What happened to ‘do not engage’?”

“I didn’t plan on it Felicity. It’s not easy to sneak up on me but she did. She’s good” Robbie said.

“Ok, fair enough. But what do you mean nearly?” she asked.

“I think she was expecting someone else. She asked who sent me, but I just wanted to talk. Then she saw your message that Laurel had been kidnapped and left.”

They both looked over at Oliver, who was talking to Laurel on her own. Robbie guessed he’d asked her how she was doing. Robbie didn’t blame Laurel for the slightly defeated expression she wore. Between being caught in the undertaking to losing Tommy, then being kidnapped by a serial killer intent on drowning her with liquid plastic, any sane person would have been affected by that. Robbie turned back to Felicity, who was still looking at Laurel. She looked like she were seeing Laurel for the first time. Robbie recognised that look, it was her ‘I think I’ve just figured out something huge’ look, the one she’d worn when she first worked out that symbol on Oliver’s red book was a map of the Starling City subway system.

“What is it?” he asked her.

She snapped out of her thoughts.

“One second” she said.

She hurried over to Oliver and politely almost dragged him back over to Robbie.

“What is it?” he asked, echoing Robbie.

“I think we may be going about things all wrong with our masked friend.”

“How so?”

“We all thought she was obsessed with you. I mean between the DA’s office and the chemical plant with the Doll Maker, it was a reasonable assumption. But you weren’t the only one in both of those places.”

Oliver glanced back out into the crowd. Robbie followed his gaze. Laurel had resumed socialising with the party attendees, masking whatever emotions had been bubbling so close to the surface when she’d talked with Oliver.

“Laurel” Oliver said.

“Exactly. Robbie said that she went to the chemical plant because she saw the message that Laurel had been kidnapped, not that that was where you were. If she was following you, she would have already been there. So what if she isn’t following you, what if…”

“She’s following Laurel” Robbie finished.

Felicity nodded. They all looked at Laurel. Laurel was a somewhat well-known lawyer working at the DA’s office. She certainly had her own connections and no doubt had her own enemies, but that was no different to any other lawyer. So why was this woman fixated on her?

 

“Sara Lance.”

Robbie needn’t say anything more. Sara was Quentin Lance’s other daughter, Laurel’s sister, the reason for Oliver’s less than warm reception by the Lance family on his return. How on Earth could she be alive?

“But you told everyone she went down with the Gambit, she drowned” Felicity said, trying to wrap he head around it.

Oliver said nothing. Robbie didn’t need to be able to feel his turmoil, it was written, clear as day, on his face.

“You lied” Diggle said, “why?”

“Because I honestly thought she’d drowned. The night the Gambit went down, it was so dark and cold, and I had no idea where she was. Why would I think anything else? But then about a year later, I saw her again.”

“What? She washed up on the island as well?”

“Not exactly” Oliver said.

“What do you mean not exactly?” Diggle demanded.

“The Amazo” Robbie said.

Both Diggle and Felicity looked at him, unaware that Robbie had this information, but Robbie kept his eyes on Oliver.

“The wrecked ship in the bay. You said she was on it but went down when it was destroyed. Obviously she survived” Robbie said, keeping judgement out of his voice.

“Obviously” Oliver said.

“But Oliver, didn’t Laurel and Mr Lance have a right to know she made it to the island?” Felicity asked.

“What difference would it make? I thought she was dead. Dead at sea or on the island, it didn’t matter. They were five years with nothing good in them” Oliver said, “they were better off not knowing.”

Diggle took what sounded like a very measured breath.

“Do they have a right to know now?” he asked.

“That depends. Robbie, you have a location?” Oliver said.

“I do.”

“I need it. I need to talk to her.”

“If she wanted to talk, she’d have done it on that rooftop.”

“Robbie” Oliver said, his tone threatening.

“No Oliver. I’ll go. I’ll talk to her and ask that she meet you.”

Oliver glared at Robbie, who met the glare and didn’t budge. He knew Oliver didn’t want to let this go. He knew that Oliver wanted nothing more than to go storm that tower to speak to Sara. But Robbie also knew that Sara hadn’t told anyone she was alive apart from Cindy. Not her parents, not her sister, not Oliver. She wouldn’t have done that unless she had some kind of reason. This was a compromise he felt she’d be more comfortable with. Oliver gritted his teeth, clearly trying to work a way around it, some trick or tactic he could use to get his way. But Robbie held his ground and eventually Robbie admitted defeat.

“Fine, but if anything happens, you tell me where she is and I go myself.”

With that, he stormed out of the Foundry.

 

Robbie climbed the steps of the clock tower, taking particular care to mask his movements. He didn’t much care to be ambushed again. He stepped out onto the wide open area of the top, scanning the room until he found her. Sara. She had her back to him, clearly deep in thought. He kept to a safe distance and allowed himself one heavy footfall. The reaction was immediate. Sara swung around, her metal pole extending, levelled at his face. Robbie didn’t flinch nor back down. Instead, he held up a bag of Big Belly Burger food, his peace offering.

“I haven’t had breakfast yet. Would you care to join me?” he asked.

She lowered the pole slightly as he sat down. Robbie reached into the bag and offered her a sandwich wrapped in foil. Now that he could see her face properly, sans mask, he could see the resemblance to Laurel, and her suspicious squinting was definitely a trait from her father.

“You know, we don’t have Big Belly Burger in Britain, because I think it would be banned for being so addictive. Why don’t you help spare me from getting horrendously fat?” he said, hoping to keep his tone light so she would lower her defences.

She didn’t stow her pole. She did take the offered food but made no motion to eat it. Robbie wasn’t lying when he said he’d had no breakfast and gladly tucked in to his own sandwich.

“Who sent you?” she asked.

“Oliver.”

She closed her eyes and leant back against the roof supports, sliding to the floor.

“Is that why you were here the other day?”

“He asked me to find the woman who saved him, so I did.”

“How did you find me?” she asked.

“I have my ways. Are you going to eat or not?”

She ignored that, continuing to stare at him, trying to figure him out.

“Oliver was surprised to see you last night. I couldn’t believe it when he told me” Robbie said, “why didn’t you tell him you were still alive?” Or tell anyone for that matter?”

“For the same reason, I’m sure, he hasn’t told anyone he’s the Arrow. Apart from you apparently, how come you know his secret?” she said, absentmindedly picking at the foil.

“I have secrets of my own.”

“Like being able to fight? Not many people can sneak up on me like you just did” she said.

“Are you kidding me? I could say the same thing about you the last time I was here” Robbie said, “oh, and he knows I can fight.”

“Is that why he trusted you to come here, even after what I did to the Doll Maker?” Sara asked.

“It was more that after he found out who you were and would have gladly made a morning raid of this lovely tower, I wouldn’t tell him where you were because I figured you wouldn’t appreciate it that much” Robbie said.

The suspicion in Sara’s face eased somewhat.

“So you don’t trust him?” she asked.

“I do trust him, but I’m also not an idiot. Oliver Queen is many things, but sensible when it comes to the people he cares about is most definitely not one of them. But I suppose none of are really.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because you haven’t told your family” Robbie said.

Sara’s face fell. 

“You know my family?”

Robbie nodded.

“You’re not going to tell them?”

Robbie shrugged.

“It’s not my place. If it were, they'd be the ones here talking to you.”

She said it quietly, barely audibly, but Robbie heard her say ‘thank you’.

“He wants to talk to you, by the way. Oliver” he said, “that’s why he agreed to let me come.”

Sara nodded.

“I guessed as much” she said.

Finally, she opened the foil and began eating. They passed the remainder of their little meal in a noticeable, but not uncomfortable, silence. When Robbie left, he made no further mention of Oliver, merely leaving Sara to her thoughts and the hope that she would reach the decision herself.

 

The training dummy had seen better days. Where before it would have only seen fists and kicks, now Robbie would was putting it through magical gauntlet. His blows sparked on contact. He conjured whips of burning yellow to snare the immobile piece of wood. He’d been training for hours, letting himself get back into the rhythm of fighting. Today, he’d decided to see if he could mix in magic without detriment. He’d started slowly, constantly alert for any fatigue, but none came. In fact, the more he trained, the more aware he was of how out of form he’d been. Now, even though his muscles ached from use, he knew this was just a normal part of exercise rather than over exertion from magic and fighting combined. He delivered a kick to the dummy, magic amplifying the force so the dummy was knocked from its post and sailed across the floor.

“You seem better” Diggle commented, having just arrived at the Foundry.

“I feel better” Robbie replied with a smile.

Oliver was not far behind. He was straight to business.

“The police have the Mayor?” he asked Felicity.

“Yes, he’s been taken into custody and is awaiting police processing” she said, grinning at a job well done.

“How was Sara?” Robbie asked.

Oliver had refused to let Robbie join him in taking down the Mayor, though Robbie wasn’t as annoyed by his reasoning.

“I’m very happy that you’ve taken the time to recover, but I need to see what Sara is capable of in the field. I can’t do that and worry about whether you’re ready yet” he’d said.

At least that was better than flat out saying no, Robbie thought, and when he’d thought about it some more, he was also very curious to know how Sara would handle herself.

“She was certainly very able, if a little too willing to kill” Oliver said.

“That seems just a little hypocritical” Diggle said, and Robbie agreed.

“I’m just glad that she didn’t in the end, even if he did then call her a bitch” Oliver said.

“Bet she didn’t like that” Felicity said.

“No, she did not, but still, she didn’t kill him.”

“So is she going to be a permanent feature in Starling City or not?” Robbie asked.

“Why? Are you jealous?” Diggle asked, not entirely serious.

“No” Robbie said, shooting Diggle a look, “it’s just that everyone thinks she’s dead. The longer she’s here, the harder it’s going to be to tip-toe around that fact.”

“I’m aware of that” Oliver said, “I’m hoping to convince her to come back, that whatever’s keeping her away doesn’t have to control her.”

“And if she still doesn’t want to say anything?” Felicity asked.

“Then we cross that bridge when we get to it” Oliver said.

Robbie crossed the room and retrieved the dummy, setting it back on its post and stowing it away.

“You’ve been training” Oliver commented.

“Yep” was all Robbie said.

“Robbie…” Oliver started but Robbie interrupted him.

“Oliver, I know you signed a piece of paper, but please stop acting like my dad. We’ve been through too much together for that. Now, are you going to stop me from suiting up or not?”

There was silence between them. They stared each other down. There was a beat and Oliver punched. Robbie deflected it, ducking and weaving, allowing Oliver’s hits to land only air. Robbie countered one punch and twisted into a kick. Oliver blocked it. They traded blows and blocks, not missing a beat. Then, like a silent bell had been rung, they stopped, back in their initial positions. Diggle and Felicity, who hadn’t entirely known how to act during the exchange, softened when they saw the pair smiling.

“I guess I’m not” Oliver said.

Nothing more was said on the topic and Robbie stood on a rooftop in his suit, feeling the wind swirl around him, hearing the hustle and bustle of the city. He felt alive. He felt free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave any feedback/thoughts you had, I would very much like to hear it.


	27. Ancient Society

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2x05

It had occurred to Robbie many times over the year he’d lived here, but the Queen mansion was big. Too big for him if he was honest, especially for the months that Oliver had left and he’d practically been living in it alone. Oliver had come back, bringing with him something of a sense of normalcy, and now he’d brought Sara, filling the large house bit by bit. Whatever he’d said to her when he met her at the hospital had worked. She’d agreed to stay, and where better for her to go than a practically empty mansion where everyone had secrets they wished to keep. Robbie sat on the back of the couch while Oliver slouched next to him. The television was on low, though neither of them were watching it with any enthusiasm. They’d come to an unspoken agreement a long time ago; night time was contemplative, night was for each to be alone with his thoughts. They did talk to each other occasionally, usually when they had a thought they needed to work through that couldn’t wait for the next day, though it was mostly in silence, mainly because one would be asleep and the other would be keeping a watch. Since coming to Starling City, they’d been busy most nights, and their agreement went forgotten in place of business. Still, in the few peaceful moments they found, they fell back into old habits. When Sara entered the room, Robbie didn’t look up from his perch.

“Can’t sleep?” Oliver asked, sitting up properly.

“I don’t do well with my eyes closed” Sara said.

“Well then you’re in good company” Robbie said.

Sara smiled slightly.

“Thank you again, for letting me stay here. I know there’s a lot going on at the moment” she said.

“Don’t worry. Thea mostly stays at her boyfriend’s, and it’s a big house so I’m sure you wouldn’t run into her if she popped by” Robbie said.

“No one’ll find out that you’re still alive” Oliver said.

There was silence between the three of them. The basketball game in the background kept it from being too awkward even though none of them were even looking at the screen.

“I still think you should tell them. They miss you, every single day” Oliver said.

“You think they’d be happy to see me?” Sara said.

“How can you think otherwise?” Oliver asked, slightly incredulously, “I know it’s difficult, dropping back into the life you left behind. I know Sara.”

“I’m guessing Laurel and my dad weren’t too happy to see you” Sara said.

Robbie snorted slightly.

“That’s one way of putting it.”

Oliver smiled and agreed.

“I guess I was wondering. Did the two of you ever…” Sara said.

Oliver was still smiling but Robbie could feel regret bubbling inside.

“We tried, but with everything … it was too much, for both of us” Oliver said.

“Maybe some things are better left in the past” Sara said.

She bade them both goodnight and left. Oliver watched her go and left not long after, retreating to his own bed, leaving Robbie alone. Robbie understood the turmoil. Sara was one of the things which Oliver regretted the most in his life. Her death had hung over him ever since he’d gotten back to the city, every single time he interacted with the Lance’s. Now that she was back, despite the brave face he was showing, the fact that he couldn’t begin to make things right with Laurel and her father by giving them back their family member was eating him up. Robbie could only imagine if any of his family turned up. What would he say to them? What would they say to him? What would he do? These thoughts plagued his mind as the night wore on, hour by hour, until finally the sun began to shine.

 

Oliver was needed at the prison to discuss things about Moira, so Robbie and Sara were left at the mansion on their own. Sara didn’t seem to want any company so Robbie left her to her own devices, turning instead to something he’d been neglecting during his recovery: schoolwork. He’d hated doing it at first, especially since the tutor seemed to be far too happy. He’d go through the motions, going through the catch-up work with little enthusiasm. After the Undertaking, he’d managed to convince the tutor to let him do the work without supervision. Given that her father had been injured in the earthquake, she’d agreed fairly quickly. Despite his initial reluctance, he found he actually enjoyed doing the schoolwork, if for no other reason than it gave him something to do which had nothing to do with anything. No street gangs, no vigilante masks, definitely no magic, just plain and simple education. It also gave him space to think, a way to clear his head when he was supposed to be solving equations or debating the characters of Bleak House. Right now, he needed to clear his head of last night’s thoughts. He’d concluded that he wouldn’t be seeing his family again, not unless he found them himself. And he will find them; that much he was certain of. Vaguely, he heard the front door open and close, followed by voices. He guessed that Oliver had come back and was talking to Sara. Nothing to worry about, he thought, as he turned back to list of questions he was supposed to be answering. Then there was a crash, immediately grabbing Robbie’s full attention. What was that? When he heard the sounds of fighting, instinct took over and he dashed in the direction of the noise. It was coming from the living room. He practically jumped down the stairs in his haste, rounding the corner into the room. Oliver was attempting to fight somebody with a candlestick. Whoever it was, they were good, moving like a blur, and Oliver was knocked to the ground. Robbie saw the glint of steel as the assailant raised his sword, ready to stab at Sara who lay on the ground. Robbie reacted. Ribbons of yellow energy ensnared the blade, pulling it back. The assailant was unbalanced slightly. He twisted so that he was facing Robbie, ready to fight. He saw Robbie’s glowing hands and hesitated. Robbie faltered too. He hadn’t had a proper look at the person, but now he saw him in full, saw the brown leather overtunic, the black hood and mask, the way he held himself with the sword. How could they be here? The glowing ribbons vanished, releasing the weapon. He shouldn’t be here. The man’s momentary hesitation was enough for Oliver to charge him, slamming him into a side table and forcing him to the ground. Oliver pulled away the hood, stepping back as the man’s head was revealed.

“Who are you?” Oliver asked.

The man took a few steadying breaths before looking defiantly up at Oliver.

“Just a warrior” he said, his gaze lingering on Sara as he said it, “like you.”

“Why are you dressed like Malcolm Merlyn?” Oliver asked.

What? Oliver thought this man was Merlyn? Robbie hadn’t seen Merlyn in the final fight, but if he’d been dressed like this, then that meant that … no, and Oliver didn’t even know. The man didn’t deign that with a response. Robbie was sure he saw a hint of an eye roll at the mention of Merlyn.

“Who sent you?” Oliver demanded.

The man reacted, throwing a knife at the chandelier above Sara’s head. Thankfully, she rolled out of the way and the light crashed with a shower of sparks, more than enough distraction for the man to disappear. Oliver looked about the room as though trying to find him, but Robbie knew better and so did Oliver, who quickly gave up his search. Sara stumbled to her feet.

“Are you ok?” Oliver asked her, helping her steady herself.

“I’m fine” she said, wiping the blood from her nose.

Oliver turned back to Robbie. He hadn’t moved since the man vanished, still too lost in his thoughts.

“Robbie, we need to get to the Foundry now!” he said.

Robbie pulled himself together and nodded. Oliver stormed from the room, returning a moment later with a small bag with what looked like dirt in it. Robbie held an arm out and a portal appeared with a snap. Sara jumped slightly. She hadn’t expected that. Robbie walked through it, followed closely by Oliver who was talking quickly on his phone. Sara was more hesitant though she did step through. The portal closed with another snap. Sara had Robbie fixed with a shrewd look, one which Robbie returned. They heard Oliver finish his hurried phone call and ceased their staring competition. Sara turned to inspect the Foundry. She seemed impressed, lingering before the case with Oliver’s hood in it.

“I remember when I first saw this. Shado was wearing it” she said, “I’m liking the set up you’ve got here; a place where you can wage your war for Starling. I take you’re both a part of it?”

“Yes” Robbie said.

“Though not just us” Oliver said.

As if on cue, Felicity and Diggle appeared from the shadows.

“That was quick” Robbie said.

Surely Oliver had just finished talking to them.

“You’re lucky we were in the area when you called” Diggle said.

Sara raised an eyebrow at the two newcomers.

“This is John Diggle and Felicity Smoak” Oliver said, gesturing to them both and then taking a deep breath, “guys, this is Sara.”

Robbie was glad to see the pair of them taking it in their stride.

“Welcome home Sara” Diggle said.

“I’m glad to see you’re not dead anymore. I mean, I know I didn’t know you before, but still, hooray for life” Felicity said.

Sara smiled at the pair of them.

“We just had a visitor at the Queen mansion. He was trained, highly skilled and he was dressed like Malcolm Merlyn” Oliver told them.

“But Merlyn’s dead, curtesy of an arrow to the heart” Diggle said, brow furrowed.

“It wasn’t him, maybe a follower or a disciple. Either way, he knows who I am” he said, handing over the dirt to Felicity.

Sara was again staring at him and Robbie couldn’t help but stare back. Oliver was talking like that man was connected to Merlyn, and if Merlyn had really dressed like that then he guessed he was, just not in the way Oliver thought he was. But something didn’t seem right. The man had tried killing Sara not Oliver, despite Sara being on the ground and Oliver had still been fighting, clearly presenting the most immediate danger. Why would he try killing Sara, unless…?

“Sara” Oliver said, snapping them both out of their staring.

He looked between the two and continued talking.

“We’re going to find him. Don’t worry.”

Sara took a deep breath while Robbie held his, waiting to see if his suspicions were correct.

“I don’t want you to” she said.

Oliver, Diggle and Felicity turned to look at her, but Robbie looked away. He didn’t want to be correct in this.

“He’s not after you. He’s after me.”

The three at the computers didn’t seem to know how to react. Robbie turned back just enough that he could see Sara.

“What’s his name?” he asked her.

“Al-Owal, the First” she answered, “and he’s a member of the League of Assassins.”

Robbie turned away again. He was right. Though he couldn’t see it, he could feel the reaction from his friends. Confusion from Diggle and Felicity and something he could only describe as distressed understanding from Oliver. Everything about Sara’s behaviour was now making sense to him.

“Please tell me that the League of Assassins isn’t literally a league of assassins” Felicity said.

“I thought they were a myth. I heard about them in Afghanistan. A tribal leader claimed they were an ancient band of deadly warriors who killed and vanished like ghosts” Diggle said.

“The closest thing to magic that most people can get” Robbie said, facing the room once again.

Oliver had moved away, facing the case with his hood. Sara was looking at him, her face a mask but otherwise looking concerned. Oliver wasn’t hiding his emotions as well; they were bubbling too close to the surface.

“That’s where you’ve been these last five years” he said, “that’s where you learned to fight. You’re one of them.”

Sara nodded, almost grimacing. Robbie didn’t like being right about this. He knew the League’s code, he knew why they were hunting Sara. But there was another code, one that had been drilled into him like he was sure the League’s had been into Sara, one that made anything to do with the League very complicated for him.

“I’m murderer, Oliver. My family is better off without me” Sara said.

Oliver looked like he wanted to argue, but his phone buzzed.

“I have to go to Iron Heights. Felicity, I need you to find this Al-Owal” he said after checking the message.

He shot Sara another look before he left the Foundry. Sara looked uncomfortable, but Robbie didn’t know what he should say to her.

 

Robbie needed to clear his head, so he did what he usually did; he meditated. The clear area in the middle of the room was his usual spot. He kept his breathing slow and deliberate, in and out. He could hear the tapping of Felicity’s keyboard, as well as the low voices of Felicity and Diggle. They were no doubt discussing Sara’s revelation. He couldn’t hear Sara, but then if she was a member of the League, she could keep herself unnoticed and unseen. He felt someone sitting down in front of him. Opening his eyes, he saw Sara. She looked ashamed, keeping her head down.

“Did you want Oliver to know?” Robbie asked her.

“No” she said, “how much does he know about you?”

“Quite a lot.”

Sara nodded, seeming to weigh her desire to ask what was on her mind.

“You’re one of them, aren’t you? You’re one of the Mages?” she asked.

Robbie nodded.

“I’d heard the stories about the College. It just goes to show how unbelievable it is that even a member of the League of Assassins would have trouble believing it. And Oliver knows about it?”

“He’s seen the College. Seeing is believing” Robbie said.

“He’s a lucky man. Do they know?” Sara asked, gesturing to Felicity and Diggle.

He glanced at them. Felicity had moved to analyse the dirt sample and Diggle was still by the computers. Both were watching the conversation between the two of them with interest.

“They know somethings, but not everything” Robbie said.

“You learned magic at college?” Felicity asked.

“Did you think I taught myself?” Robbie asked, teasing.

“No, but we figured it was more a wise mentor kind of studying. But really, there’s a college?” Felicity said.

“Of sorts. College probably isn’t the right word, but it’s the closest thing in English to describe it” Robbie said.

“And you knew about this?” Diggle asked Sara.

“The League has made it its mission to root out any opposition to itself. Very few things could oppose the League, one being the Mages College. The College could have destroyed the League in its earliest days, but according to the stories, the two organisations grew to respect one another” Sara said, “occasionally representatives would visit each other, the College and Nanda Parbat.”

“Wait, so does that mean…” Felicity said, trailing off into her own thoughts.

“Mean what?” Robbie asked.

“Oh nothing” she said.

“You don’t judge” Sara said.

It was more of statement than anything else, but there was confusion evident in her voice.

“You work with a bow wielding vigilante and a Mage and you don’t judge. It doesn’t bother you” she said to Diggle and Felicity.

Felicity and Diggle exchanged a look.

“We let them know what we think. If we didn’t, Oliver would still be killing people and Robbie would probably be dead from exhaustion” Diggle said.

“It wasn’t that bad” Robbie interjected.

“Yes it was” Diggle said.

“Oliver killed” Sara said.

They all nodded.

“I heard stories about the Hood. I knew it was Oliver, but it’s like you said, seeing is believing. And you still follow him despite that” she said.

“Oliver changed” Robbie said.

“I think I’m too far gone for that” Sara said, looking down at her feet.

“Really? Because by my reckoning, you’ve only killed one person since you came back to Starling. Compared to when Oliver came back, you’re practically a saint” Robbie said.

Sara smiled.

“Thank you” she said.

They were interrupted from continuing their conversation as Oliver came back in. Both Robbie and Sara shot to their feet. Robbie could see the tension in his face. Whatever had happened with Moira wasn’t good. This was confirmed as Oliver immediately asked for somebody to hit. Oh no, he hadn’t given it too much thought but of course Oliver would go after Al-Owal. He’d be expecting Robbie to go after him as well. But he couldn’t.

“Robbie, it’s time to go” Oliver told him.

He just had to grit his teeth and tell him. There was no two ways about it.

“I can’t.”

Oliver had been about to walk away. He turned back to face Robbie. Robbie could barely muster the strength to look him in the eye.

“What do you mean? Just last week you were itching to get back out into the field, let’s go” Oliver said.

“No, I really mean it, I can’t go.”

“It’s to do with the League isn’t it?” Sara asked.

Robbie nodded.

“Explain, now” Oliver said.

“It wasn’t just respect that kept the two groups from killing each other. The League and the College came to an agreement, an armistice if you will, to basically leave each other alone. When I was trained by the College, I agreed to that too.”

“But Robbie, the College is gone. I saw it happen. They can’t exactly hold you to anything” Oliver said.

“Oliver, you know enough about magic to know that some agreements can be bound in more ways than words. I’d rather not take the chance that this is one of them” Robbie said, his voice was shaking slightly as he really needed Oliver to understand that he meant what he said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t get involved in League business.”

The look on Oliver’s face was harder to look at than anything Robbie had seen in months, but he made himself keep it in view, not breaking eye contact. It was like disappointment, but somehow worse. Eventually, the tense silence was broken. 

“Fine, stay here” Oliver said.

Oliver strode out of the Foundry. Sara gave Robbie a sympathetic smile before following him.

“I’m sorry” Robbie said to her as she left.

He meant it. He truly did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading. I'm not sure how well I did with this, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same.
> 
> As always, I would be very grateful for feedback. Please let me know what you thought.


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